


I Don't Want to Be Saved

by CanuckleheadCowgirl, magnetocerebro



Series: The 495 Marvel Universe [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: De-Aged, Gen, Kidverse, the Barton boys need love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-01 18:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 68,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14527056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanuckleheadCowgirl/pseuds/CanuckleheadCowgirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetocerebro/pseuds/magnetocerebro
Summary: Seven-year-old Clint Barton has finally found a family. His brother might be content with the circus, but Clint has attached to a mysterious drifter who only goes by 'K'.He knows that K has a scary past, one that involves some bad men who forced her to do things she didn't want to do. But when those men come after them, the problem might be more than the two of them can handle on their own.Not that Clint is happy about needing help, especially from costumed superheroes who should keep their noses out of his mom's business.





	1. The Net is Closing

 

* * *

Clint liked Barney's new mentor.

Miranda was tall and had long, dark hair. She liked to wear long coattails like a magician that flew out behind her when she spun, and she let Barney pick the purple lining of his costume.

And best of all, she was  _nice._

It wasn't the kind of sickly sweet nice some of the other adults in the circus tried to be to the younger kids, with candies and smiles and baby talk. Miranda was just… nice. She talked to Clint and seemed genuinely interested when he said he wanted to be Robin Hood. And K had even pointed out how much Barney had grown. Not just in his skills but physically…

Not getting the crap beat out of him was doing wonders for Barney.

And Miranda was nice enough to understand why K and Clint wanted to know more about her. She had been totally open to going out to eat with them and was willing to answer questions. There was something comforting about listening to K interrogate her, too. Like it was further proof that K cared even if Jacques was gone.

Not that Clint didn't know that. It was just nice to see it.

Miranda, too, was open and honest. The ringmaster had let her in on some of the history, so she had been sure to tell K that she had been snatched up as a child and taken to an institute that had been destroyed when another, more powerful mutant escaped. She had run away in the chaos and found a home in the circus — and never looked back.

"I've known Paul, the ringmaster, for years, ever since we were kids," she said.

"That had to be a shock, then — breaking out after a stretch of time only to end up near an old friend," K said with her brows furrowed.

Miranda shook her head lightly. "I ran  _to_ Paul; I knew I could trust him."

K rested her chin in her hand and arched one eyebrow as a crooked smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Oh. Did you now?"

Miranda let out a light laugh. "What can I say? Childhood best friends are irreplaceable."

"Mmhmm," K said, nodding slowly once. "So, what do you think you can teach Barney? I have a solid start on him, in spite of Jacques insistence on being a pain."

Miranda smiled. "Well, I was always more of a fencer than a projectile weapons master — but he is quite the knife wielder."

"He's worked hard to get where he is, skills-wise," K replied, watching Barney as she said it — and Barney, for his part, looked pleased with himself, even if he was also fairly red-faced from the high praise.

"I practice every day," he promised earnestly.

Miranda smiled. "We have a schedule. Every morning, we practice on a cycle. Knives, swords, and bows. He will be doing his own act soon enough; I can do swords, and he can do distance. One day, he might even help me pull off a sliced arrow trick," she added with a little laugh.

"I'm sure he'd enjoy that," K said, shaking her head before she let out a little sigh. "We don't know when we'll be through. So there's not usually any warning between. I hope that won't be an issue for you."

Miranda looked surprised. "No, of course not," she said. "Circus life is always unpredictable. And I don't dictate what he does after the shows; he usually plays with the other kids."

"In that case, I look forward to the next time we meet up," K said before she looked to Barney. "What do you think, big guy?"

Barney smiled shyly. "I think I am learning swordplay pretty fast," he said. "I like it."

"I'm not surprised in the least," K said easily.

"Me either," Clint piped up quickly. "You're gonna be the best ever, Barney."

When dinner was over, the little group began to walk back toward the car that Miranda had borrowed from Paul to get there. She'd parked well off from the rest of the cars in the lot, and the two women were chatting easily between themselves when very suddenly, K stopped and blinked a few times. Her lips were parted, and her brows drawn together as she looked up and turned — in time for a second dart to hit her.

"Run," she said quietly before she started to head forward again herself — though she was trying very hard to keep from letting her heart get away from her as more darts found their target. "Get out of here," she called out a little louder — not up to the same spot the other three were still.

It was pretty clear, though, that she was having some trouble, and they weren't quite to the car before she had to adjust her stance, setting her feet wider to keep from falling over as she ducked for cover behind someone's van. K leaned her head back against the side panel, but when she heard the far-off movement of the group moving in to pick her up, she realized she wasn't  _getting_ up on her own. Her limbs were getting heavier by the second, and she simply didn't have the energy; she simply let her arms slide off of her lap as she leaned back.

Clint had of course ignored Miranda when she told the boys to get in the car and rushed over to K. "Mom?" he asked, looking concerned.

Miranda narrowed her eyes before she headed back. "Clint, come on."

"Go with your brother," K said thickly, though her eyes were barely open, and her tone was very soft.

"Come on, Mom," Clint said. "You too!"

When it was clear Clint was not going to leave K, Miranda crouched down to pull K up, one arm under K's shoulders as she let out an  _oof. "_ You are heavier than you look," she said as she started to pull K along.

Clint ducked under K's arm as well, his eyes wide, clearly trying to help, before the too-loud voice of a nearby soldier rang out: "Step away from her. You don't know what she is capable of. She's incredibly dangerous."

Miranda raised an eyebrow as she faced the soldiers, looking confused as she let out a string of words that Clint didn't understand. It must have been a different language, but it didn't sound like Swedish or French or anything.

The soldiers looked frustrated by Miranda's response, and Clint could hear the terrifying sound of guns around them, a clear message to Miranda in any language.

"Don't you hurt her," Clint blurred out, his lip trembling but his chin thrust out.

"Tell your mom to step away from the girl, kid," one of the soldiers said. "We won't ask again."

Clint took in a breath and shrank back, shaking his head and nearly hiding in K's side.

"Clint," Miranda said softly.

"But—"

" _Clint."_ Miranda's tone was sharp and got him to look up quickly. She met his gaze and tipped her head to the car, and he shook his head again.

But just as the soldiers stepped forward, something landed at Clint's feet, and then there was a flash of light, and Clint could feel himself being lifted off his feet.

He clung onto K tighter and refused to let go, his eyes squeezed shut. He was so scared that he couldn't hear anything but his heart pounding in his ears. All he knew was that he was  _not_ going to let anyone take his mom away from him.

Not again.

He was so focused on holding on that he didn't really know what was going on. He felt leather underneath him and movement, but it wasn't until someone put a hand on his arm that his eyes snapped open and he was ready to fight—

It was Barney.

"It's okay," Barney said, speaking slowly and signing it as well. "It's okay. I had a flashy thing from the show."

Clint picked his head up a little more to see that he was in Miranda's car, and she was driving as fast as she could. "Did we get away?"

"Not yet," Miranda said, still driving fast as they went around the corner.

Clint frowned at that and held onto K a little tighter, though he was surprised when Miranda didn't go straight back to the circus, instead veering off a side road and onto a dirt path shrouded in trees. She quickly shut off the car and motioned for the boys to be silent before she turned to look at K, who was clearly struggling with the effects of the drug — but not quite as badly as before.

Silently, Miranda slipped out of the car and headed to the edge of the dirt path. Clint had his nose nearly to the window as he watched, completely unsure what she was doing, until he saw her uproot a tree and simply lay it in the path, blocking it from access from the main road.

Clint glanced to Barney. "Did you know she could do that?"

Barney shook his head quickly. "News to me."

Clint raised both eyebrows but didn't say anything further as the two of them watched Miranda head back to the car, looking serious as she looked K over and let out a breath. "Alright. They shouldn't see the road, but I'm going to stay with you guys a little longer," she said. "I'll tell Paul to report the car stolen when we get back so they can't trace it back to him, and you can take it in the meantime," she told K

"Got a ride back there," K replied.

Miranda nodded and looked over the boys. "I can take these two back—"

"No way," Clint said quickly. "I'm not leaving my mom. No way."

"It's okay, Clint," K said in a slow meter. "You'd be safer if you want to stay with Barney …"

Clint shook his head harder. "I'm not gonna leave you," he said. "We're family; we gotta stick together!"

"I don't know how they found me though," K said. "They were downwind even."

Miranda put a hand on Barney's shoulder. "It's no problem, Clint; we could let you stay with us until your mom is safe."

"No." Clint crossed his arms and looked even more adamant — though his tone was anxious and it was clear that the very idea had him on the edge of panicking. "I finally got a mom, and I ain't gonna let her go."

K let out a little breath and pulled him over into a tight bear hug. "I just need to know where this  _came_ from."

"I… I bet one of Jacques' friends said something," Barney said quietly, his eyes wide. "They were real mad about how that went down and how the ringmaster kicked 'em out."

"Are they still with the circus?" K asked, barely loosening her grip on Clint.

Miranda shook her head. "No, Paul cleaned out the cast. He's not going to tolerate anyone that enabled Jacques."

K pulled back enough to look Clint in the face. "That actually complicates things."

Clint met her gaze. "I won't let 'em get you," he promised quietly.

"You might want to stay away from the circus for a while if they know you're attached," Miranda said.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking," K agreed. "But I don't want to keep these two apart."

Barney took a deep breath as he looked between K and Clint and then straightened up a little and shook his head. "Don't worry 'bout it," he said. "As long as you come get me for holidays and stuff, right? Like Christmas?" He gave K a brilliant smile that he was obviously trying to make brighter than normal to keep her from feeling too bad about the separation.

K nodded. "If I have to put on witch makeup, I will."

Clint smiled at that. "You could have a green face," he laughed.

"That's what I'm thinking. It will be Halloween," K reasoned. "I'll wear a dress and use stilts so I'm taller." She cracked a little smile Barney's way. "Even without makeup, the stilts might do it."

Barney nodded. "You just… you just keep Clint safe, okay, Aunt K?" he said, still with that same little forced smile. "I'll be just fine with Miranda and everybody, really."

K let out a weary sigh and waved Barney over. "I'm sorry about this, buddy."

Barney shook his head quickly. "It ain't your fault," he said. "That's what you're always telling me, right? Can't take responsibility for bad people."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, that's what you say."

"Doesn't make it feel any less like it's my issue," K pointed out. "But we'll see you as soon as we can."

Barney nodded. "Maybe I'll surprise you with how good I am when you come back!" he said.

"We'll keep him safe," Miranda promised, making sure to meet K's gaze. "If anyone comes asking questions, he's my nephew. Paul will back me up."

"If you run across anyone with three slashes across their face — don't even talk to them," K advised.

"That's not too hard to find," Barney said.

"We might scout out a few stops ahead of you," K said. "If you see three lines at your venue … at least you'll know we've been through."

"Looking out for you," Clint said with a small smile. "Because we gotta watch out for each other."

"We have such a weird family," Barney said, shaking his head.

"Break a leg, Barney," K said before she kissed his temple.

"Don't break anything yourself," Barney said with a little smile.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

"Yeah, I won't let it," Clint agreed.

Barney smirked and reached over to shove Clint in the shoulder. "Of course."

"Alright," K said. "I have an idea. But you're going to have to trust me, Clint."

Clint nodded seriously, his eyes wide. "Whatcha got?"

"Miranda can move the tree, and you three head back. I'll take a different path to get to the Jeep — just to make sure they didn't wire it or anything, alright? We'll head out — but I want them to see you with your brother and Miranda."

Clint frowned and shrank a little more into K's side. "But I wanna stay with you," he said.

"And you will. I won't go anywhere but to the Jeep," she promised.

"And that way, the bad guys will think you went with me," Miranda explained gently. "They won't be looking for you." She smiled encouragingly. "That's good. That means they won't be looking for a mom and her son."

Clint bit his lip as he thought about it. "Like…. I get to be your cover again?" he asked K.

"As long as they don't know you're with me? Yeah," K agreed.

Clint nodded at that. "Okay. I can do that," he said, and Barney gave him an encouraging thumbs up.

"See you soon," Barney told K.

"Just act like everything is normal without me around. They'll probably expect all of you to look anxious after that."

"Pretty sure we won't have to do too much acting on that part," Barney said with a little smile.

"I'll make sure to keep them both close," Miranda said. She met Clint's gaze. "I'll be acting like an upset aunt — is it okay if I hug you both like I'm worried?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, we can do that."

"See you soon," K said before she gave both boys a quick hug and then took a moment to make sure she was back to herself. "If they stop you, or ask you questions, don't tell them anything. Make it work. Whatever you come up with." She winked at Clint and thanked Miranda before she positively disappeared into the forest without a sound — moving at a near-dead run.

Miranda took a moment to make sure that K had some good distance before she turned to the boys. "If they stop us, let me do a little of the talking. I can do a passable Romanian confused aunt. And if they ask  _you_ anything, you boys are my nephews, and K was a nice woman who didn't like Jacques." She gave Barney a look in particular. "You — you don't know why she defended you, but you're very glad she did."

Barney nodded quickly. "Got it. Mysterious hero, right?"

"Right," Miranda said with a smirk before she slipped out to quickly move the tree and get back to the car. She set her jaw as she headed out to the road and then kept driving until they got back to the circus.

When they arrived, they were upset to see that there were already several soldiers there. Paul was talking with a few of them, and both of the Barton boys could see the other mutants in the show trying to look smaller, obviously nervous.

"Stay close," Miranda whispered to the boys, one hand on each of their shoulders.

She didn't have to tell them twice, and both Barton boys were keeping close as several soldiers approached the group of them, and Clint couldn't help but hold onto Miranda a little tighter - worried that he was going to get K in trouble somehow.

"Where did she go?" one of the soldiers demanded.

Miranda frowned at the soldiers and gestured to their guns, once again speaking a language that it didn't look like the soldiers understood.

When the soldier took a step forward, Barney swallowed and shook his head. "She says she doesn't want to get anyone in trouble," he said softly.

"That woman is dangerous," the soldier snapped.

"She was real nice to me," Barney said quietly, and Miranda pulled him a little closer to her.

The soldier frowned between the three of them. "We need to know where she's gone. No matter how nice she might have seemed, she's more dangerous than you know. She could have killed you all."

"Really?" Clint asked, his eyes wide and his voice soft.

"How did you cross paths with that woman?" the soldier asked, still glaring at the group of them.

Clint and Barney glanced at each other before Clint cleared his throat. "She… she helped me and my brother," he said quietly. "Stopped … she didn't want no one hitting us."

He frowned deeper, and the corner of his mouth tightened up. "Tell me what happened, son."

Clint glanced at Barney again before he took a deep breath. "She um…" He bit his lip. "Jacques beat the crap outta my brother and — and she made him stop." He tipped his head toward Barney. "Show 'im, Barn," he said, raising one eyebrow toward his brother and hoping Barney would follow his lead.

Barney looked frustrated — he didn't like people to see that he'd been hurt — but he rolled his eyes and then rolled up his shirt a little, revealing the still-yellow marks. "He's not lyin'," Barney said before he rolled his shirt back down.

"Looks old, kid," the soldier replied.

Barney nodded. "Nobody's seen him for a while," he said. "And she came to check on me, so …" He glanced up at Miranda. "My aunt wanted to thank her and treat her to dinner for taking care of me."

"She seemed real nice," Clint put in. "She showed me how to hold my pocket knife." He reached into his pocket and produced the knife with a shy smile. "See?"

The soldier frowned at the knife in Clint's hand and nodded slowly. "You really shouldn't talk to dangerous strangers, kid. That woman is an assassin and the next closest thing to a rabid animal."

Clint frowned at that and held onto his knife tighter. "She … are you sure?"

"Absolutely," he replied. "We got a hold of the body of Jacques Dusquene, and there were marks there that matched up with her style perfectly." He tipped his chin up. "A rational person would turn him into the authorities. Not murder him in cold blood."

Barney glanced at Clint. "So… so he's dead? Like,  _dead_?"

"Three holes in his shoulder, one that cut an artery there and one through his heart. Yes. He's very dead."

"That's gross," Clint said, wrinkling his nose.

"Shuddup, Clint," Barney said, watching the soldier with his eyes as wide as they could get. "We just… we just wanted to help," he said. "We didn't  _know_ she's a bad guy."

"I already told you gentlemen that if you needed something, you should come to me," Paul said as he joined the group. He put a bracing hand on Barney's shoulder and pulled Clint over next to him. "We don't want any trouble. We can't afford the kind of attention you're giving us either, so … if you want anything else, you just have to tell me what it is."

When the soldier frowned between the four of them for a while longer, Clint turned his head into Paul's side and let out a little whimpering sound and started to let his shoulders shake, keeping his face hidden.

The soldier seemed to lose some of his glare at that and took half a step back. "If she shows up again, we need to know immediately. It's not like her to show up at any place like this more than once. Not unless she's after something."

"I won't let her near my family," Paul said, meeting the soldier's gaze. "I have your card. Now if you'll excuse me…" He scooped Clint up, making sure to keep a hand on the back of his head. "I need to take care of my crew."

The group of them headed back to Paul's trailer, and they waited until the soldiers had moved on before Clint picked up his head, his cheeks perfectly dry, and Paul chuckled and ruffled Clint's hair. "Smart move, kiddo."

Clint grinned. "Grown-ups don't know how to deal with crying kids," he said.

"Especially not men like that," Miranda said, shaking her head, one hand still on Barney's shoulder.

"Still." Paul smirked at Clint. "That was good acting. You sure you don't want to join up?"

"I'm good," Clint said. "I just wanna stay with my mom."

Paul nodded at that. "We'll keep an eye out for her. If she said she was going to come back for you, she will."

It was still several hours before the soldiers seemed to slowly disappear — though it looked like they went all at once. Clint spotted one on a rooftop near the grounds with a rifle ... watching. But when he nervously checked to see if the guy was still up there half an hour later ... the rooftop was empty.

All the lights were off but for a few little nightlights in the trailer as he waited — honestly starting to wonder if K  _wasn't_ coming back … when Sicem nuzzled his head under Clint's hand suddenly.

"Took a little longer than I expected," K said quietly.

Clint let out a little noise before he threw himself into a hug. "I thought you mighta forgotten me," he muttered into the hug.

"Not a chance," she replied, wrapping him up a little better. "I just had to make sure all of the ones they left to watch weren't watching anymore."

Clint nodded, hugging her tighter. "They were really unhappy you weren't there."

"Yeah, I saw," K said, nodding.

"I scared 'em off, though," Clint said, picking his head back up. "They're scareda crying kids."

"I doubt they're scared of crying kids," K said. "They just don't know how to react to crying kids."

Clint nodded. "Paul said I'm a real good actor. Pretty cool, right?"

"I'm not surprised," she said, nodding. "But we'll have to get moving pretty quickly here unless you want to stay. Did anyone get hurt?"

Clint shook his head. "Lotsa people were scared, but everybody's okay, I think," he promised, grabbing her hand. "C'mon. Let's get you outta here so they don't come try and hurt you, okay?"

"We've got a few hours," K replied. "Should be enough to make some distance and change cars."

"Okay. Lemme just tell Miranda so she doesn't think I disappeared," Clint whispered, rushing off to go do just that — and get a hug for his troubles and a warning to be careful before he rushed back to K, climbing into the Jeep with her and Sicem.

K was quiet for a little while as she got them out of the area, though Clint gave her a sidelong glance, bit his lip, and tried for a small smile. "Don't worry," he said. "Me and Barney used to get split all the time. We're gonna be just fine."

"It's just cruel," she replied in a flat tone.

Clint frowned and shook his head. "I'm okay. Are  _you_  okay? You got some blood on you," he said, gesturing to her shirt.

"Yeah," K said, glancing down at herself. "It's not mine. I'm fine."

Clint frowned down at his hands for a moment. "Didja kill someone again?" he asked.

"No. I just injured them enough to end their careers hunting mutants."

Clint nodded, glancing up at her again. "They said ... they said you kill people."

She nodded lightly. "I have. But rarely was it ever my idea. They made me do all kinds of things, and killing was on the list."

"That's not right," Clint said, frowning harder. "People shouldn't make you do things that aren't right."

"That's part of why I'm not letting them catch me if I can help it," she agreed. "I know they can make me, so I'm trying not to let them get the chance to."

Clint nodded and then let his shoulders drop. "I was real scared," he admitted. "There's lots of them, and they had guns and stuff."

"I'll have to do better to keep them from getting around you then," she replied, frowning lightly.

Clint shook his head. "I can take 'em! I can! I just… I just gotta get bigger," he added softer.

"You shouldn't have to take them," K said.

"Well, they shouldn'ta made you do bad stuff," Clint said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"That's what they do, honey," K said.

"That's wrong," Clint said. "I don't like them, and I'm gonna get real good and shoot 'em next time they try and get you."

"You're darling," she said before she rested her hand on his shoulder, letting Clint curl up with her until he felt a little less like the world was ending.


	2. Collateral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which K and Clint are still running away from the bad guys, but the bad guys aren't shy about pulling Clint into the danger despite his age.

 

* * *

Clint was grinning to himself, still giggling on occasion. K had let him help with her new look, and he was still surprised she'd let him  _shave her head_.

"You gonna be okay there, big guy?" K asked with a crooked smirk.

"You're so bald," he giggled.

"Well … can you think of a quicker way to get rid of the red?"

"I hope not, because this was fun," he said, grinning even wider.

"Well, don't get used to it," she laughed. "It won't last to dinner time."

"Really?" Clint let his frown show obviously. "But you look so  _funny_!"

"That's just what every girl wants to hear," K said, shaking her head. "Is that your way of saying I have an ugly head?"

"Noooo," he said, shaking his head with wide eyes. "But you have such pretty hair — and now it's all gone!"

"It'll be back in no time, I promise," she said, then she tipped her head down and ran a hand over the top of her head. "Look. Already growing."

Clint raised his eyebrows before he reached up to run his hand over her head too and shook his head. "That's really cool," he said. "You can do the coolest stuff, Mom."

"I don't know how cool it is," she said before she put a baseball hat on. "Makes it hard to wear my hair short. Ever."

"That's okay. It's real pretty anyway," Clint said with an encouraging smile.

"You're going to be a serious charmer when you get bigger," she said, smirking wider.

"I don't wanna be a snake charmer. I wanna be Robin Hood or maybe Indiana Jones," Clint said, sticking his tongue out at her.

"I didn't say snake charmer," K replied. "I meant you'll be a  _lady_ charmer."

"Ewww," Clint said, scrunching up his whole face.

"Can't stop it," she said. "You're a natural."

"No way," Clint said, shaking his head. "I don't wanna be a lady charmer. I'm gonna be too busy for that!"

"We'll see how that works out," K laughed. "I think you'll find the time."

Clint tipped his head to the side as he studied her. "Okay, but I still think you're wrong," he said.

"Okay, lady charmer — pick out what you want for dinner, then we're going to have to take a break. Overnight. Cable TV. It'll be great."

"Can we have pizza?" he asked.

"Have I ever said no?" she challenged.

He shook his head. "No, but I gotta ask in case you get tireda pizza, because I really, really like pizza."

"I'm fine with pizza," she promised before they turned off the main road to find a hotel. "We'll have them deliver it. How's that work for you?"

"Oooh, yes. Pizza and movies. That sounds really good after lotsa camping," he agreed.

It was less than half an hour before they'd gotten into their room and the pizza was ordered, and Clint was happily looking forward to a quiet night in. Not that he didn't enjoy camping with K — it was just that every once in a while, he appreciated  _not_ having to sleep outside.

"Should be forty minutes before they show up," K said. "Busy night. So … I'll leave the cash on the dresser just in case they're a little early, okay?" She headed toward the bathroom. "I really need to wash off the little hairs from that quick haircut."

"Okay. I'm gonna find something to watch on the TV," Clint said, vaulting over the side of the couch with a grin.

"Nothing too sappy, lady killer," she called out before she closed the bathroom door behind her. "I know you want to be amazing at everything, but work on the bow first, huh?"

"I'm not a lady killer!" Clint shouted back her way, rolling his eyes before he started to flip through the channels to find something to watch.

Clint managed to find a good run of some old  _Hogan's Heroes_ episodes being aired, and he settled back on the couch with a smile, waiting for K to get finished with her shower when the doorbell rang.

He leaped to his feet with a grin. "Oh good. I'm  _starving_ ," he said, rushing over to the door and grabbing the cash for the pizza in the process — but to his dismay, it was absolutely not the pizza delivery man at the door.

There was a quick, quiet rush as several black-clad soldiers pushed their way inside, and the first one through the door easily wrapped Clint up and covered his mouth with his hand. "Take it easy, kid. Don't scream or try anything stupid unless you want us to shoot her."

Clint's eyes went wide at that, but he didn't want K to get caught, either — so he bit down hard on the guy's hand to make him let go long enough for Clint to start screaming anyway.

The soldier swore — at the scream and at the bite — before another man rushed in to grab Clint clamped his hand back over his mouth, this time with a glove that made it harder for Clint to bite through, though Clint was still doing his best to make them regret their decision to come after him and his mom.

K had already finished showering by the time Clint let out a scream, but she hadn't gotten entirely dressed — the jeans would just have to wait. She paused at the bathroom door and listened as Clint made a fuss — the stomping and struggling easy enough to make out even through the door. But there were a few too many scents out there beyond just one person, and she knew that there would be more outside of the room, too. So she decided to see exactly how bad it was  _first_.

She opened the door, standing to one side of it as it swung open on the hinges, and then she stepped out only when the soldiers called for her. "Come along easy and we won't hurt the kid," the guy next to Clint said, though the one holding on to him was swearing under his breath as Clint's struggles got more intense at the threat.

K stepped out, but she didn't raise her hands as her focus landed on Clint and she frowned on seeing them manhandling him. "Let him go," she said. "He doesn't have a thing to do with you."

"Not likely," the soldier said. "Not until you're secure."

"You must be new," K replied. "Let him go if you want to walk."

The man smirked and tipped his head toward one of the other soldiers, who had a pair of metallic cuffs with him. "Don't try anything, and this will be easier for the kid."

"You really are green," K said, though she locked her gaze on him and started to move forward incredibly slowly until the man with the cuffs tried to block her path, and the soldier holding Clint tweaked his arm behind his back enough to get him to let out a muffled sort of whimper. She froze, and her eyes narrowed to slits before the growl started up just like K had warned Clint — rumbling the room before the sound followed a heartbeat later. And when he pulled Clint further in front of him, K outright snarled before she launched herself at him.

By some miracle, Clint was entirely untouched when the metallic  _snikt_ rang out in the room and the soldier that had been holding Clint let out a strangled sort of gurgle. Before he had even dropped Clint, K changed directions, rushing the guy with the cuffs, though she slashed at his chest, only destroying the comm that was attached to his front pocket before he raised his hands in an attempt to protect himself.

The clearly submissive move had her backing off — but only slightly. Instead of stabbing him like she had intended, there was a quick flash of silver before the webbing between his thumbs and forefingers was sliced wide open. It wasn't fatal, but it hurt. And it would keep him from picking up anything to use against them.

Again, she turned, and this time darted past Clint — who was picking himself up and nearly hyperventilating. There was a quick scuffle outside before she came back in and immediately crouched down in front of him. "Are you okay?"

Clint shook his head lightly and then simply attached to K in a hug, trying very hard not to cry even if he already was. "I thought — I thought it was pizza and — and I didn't  _know_ and — and you—"

"Sweetheart, if you hadn't answered the door, they'd have kicked it in. Did he hurt you?"

Clint bit his lip and shook his head. "Not real bad," he promised. "I bit 'im."

She locked her jaw at that and turned back to the man cowering across the room, clutching Clint a little tighter as he buried himself in her hug. "You gonna find a new line of work, pal?" When he simply and wordlessly started to nod, K tipped her chin up and got to her feet. "If I ever see you with creeps like this again…or so much as catch your scent around them ..."

"You won't," the guy swore, still wide-eyed and looking terrified.

"How did you find us?" K asked.

"The car," he said. "We traced the swap."

"How many more are out there waiting for me?"

"Half a dozen," he said. "We weren't sure if this was a solid lead or not."

"How long before they expect a check in?" She was already moving to the door again, though she was trying to figure out where exactly Clint needed to stay while she dealt with the problem. It was obvious that he was badly shaken, and she didn't want to scare him anymore than he had already been.

"Two minutes."

She nodded and then walked over to punch him hard — knocking him out cold. "I'll be right back. If I don't clear them out, we won't make it ten miles." She whistled shrilly for Sicem, who had been hiding under the bed for most of the altercation. " _Guard_." She pointed at the dog with one finger and a little growl before she went for the door. "He'll bite anyone that comes in now. Hit the guy if he wakes up screaming."

K let out a quick breath and slipped outside, leaving Clint holding onto Sicem's collar for a few minutes, though K was back in under five. "Alright. I found a car we can borrow," K said when she came back in. "Grab your bag — time to roll."

Clint nodded quickly and wordlessly, simply rushing to grab his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he followed K out, hardly saying a word until they were at least safely in the car, an old Volkswagen. And it even had pizza in the backseat.

"You alright still, or do you want me to get you back to Barney?" K asked.

Clint glanced up at K for a moment and shook his head. "I don't… I don't wanna go," he said quietly, though he was still pretty tucked in with Sicem.

"I know," she said, sounding almost tired now that they were moving out quickly. "I just … have to ask. Make sure you know the option is there."

Clint nodded slowly before he glanced up at her again. "You… you had  _knives_. Out of your  _knuckles_ ," he said.

"Claws, actually," she said in that same tone that she used when they were talking about things she'd rather avoid.

"Like… like a bear?" Clint asked.

"These are kind of their own thing," K said.

Clint nodded. "Did the pizza guy get hurt too?" he asked after a long, long stretch of silence.

"No," she said, trying not to make it sound too light. "He kind of almost got a free show, seeing as I hadn't put my jeans on." She shook her head. "Fool wouldn't stop smiling — and couldn't look me in the face."

Clint gave her a little smile. "Okay, good. I didn't want the pizza guy to get hurt."

"I gave him a heavy tip anyhow," she said, giving him a little look.

Clint nodded and then looked back down at the floor of the car. "I'm real sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to get caught."

"You did the right things, kiddo. You didn't get us caught. I did. Sloppy about changing out that last car when I knew they were following up the lead at the circus."

"But this car?" Clint asked.

"We … won't use it for very long," K said. "I stole it, so … one night only."

Clint nodded. "Okay," he said. He put his face in Sicem's fur as he tried to calm back down, though K knew he was still anxious. "What're we gonna do now?"

"I guess we'll just have to do some more serious camping for a little bit. I'll see if I can get in touch with my friends in the rodeo ... we'll figure it out," K promised. "That or I'll set up a deal with someone and just work a job for a while. That happens too, sometimes."

Clint nodded and finally uncurled a bit to open up the pizza box. "We'll figure it out together," he said with a nod before he handed her a slice.

"We sure will," she agreed. She tipped her head to catch his gaze as she pulled up to a stop sign. "I'm sorry they got to you. But believe it or not? You tipped me off, so I was ready when I came out."

"Oh good," Clint said, looking honestly relieved. "That's what I was trying to do."

K gave him a bright smile and squeezed his arm before she kept driving, letting him nibble at the pizza for a while until the sharp scent of adrenaline had died a little more. When that happened, she smirked his way and decided to go for the laugh: "What do you think, Clint? When I go in for the job ... they say you need a shirt and shoes … pants optional? Think it'll help me?"

Clint thought about it for a moment before he giggled and shook his head. "No, 'cause if they're jerks, they'd just want you to stay with no pants — and if they're not, they'd be distracted," he decided, though he was smirking to himself.

"You're too smart for your own good," she said.

"Nuh-uh," he said, scrunching up his face at her.

"Yes, yes, you are," she said. "Would your brother have the same answer?"

Clint thought about it and then shook his head. "Probably not."

"Smart," she said, nodding her head once.

Clint smirked to himself, not quite able to hide the fact that he was clearly proud as he finished off the crust of his slice. "Are they gonna keep following us, d'you think?"

"They'll try," K said. "I did enough damage in there for them to confirm it was me."

Clint nodded. "I wish I was bigger," he said. "So I could help more."

"I can show you how to make it hurt," K said. "Which can be enough a lot of the time. The biggest guys are super tough until they realize it  _hurts_ too."

Clint smiled up at her. "Can you please teach me that?" he asked.

"I sure can," she agreed. "And you're still small, so that means you can use an equalizer."

'"Like my knife?"

"Knife, baseball bat, tire iron … Sicem …"

Clint giggled at that last one. "Sicem's not an  _equalizer_. He's a pizza hog."

"He could be an equalizer," K said. "He's bitten people before when I give him the command. But yes. He is a purebred chow hound above all else."

"That's okay; we love him anyway," Clint laughed.

"He's a good boy," K agreed. "And he knew to keep out of the way while I was going after the strike team."

"That's because he's smart too, huh?" Clint said with a grin.

"Well … he was smart to hide once trouble started," she laughed. "But you were smart to fight with all you had. They … were incredibly stupid though."

"Uh-huh," Clint said. "They were big and dumb and ugly."

'I'm just mad that you had to see it," K said, and though she was careful to keep the growl out of her voice, it was plain to see that she was still furious about the fact that the soldiers had tried to manhandle the little boy to get to her.

"I'm okay, Mom," Clint promised, his expression as open and sincere as he could get it to try and reassure her. "I got you and Sicem, so I'm okay."

"Now you are, sure," she said. "But you had to put up with garbage. And you shouldn't have to."

"I'm pretty good at it," Clint said with a shrug, which really only served to prompt K to let out a breath and give him a tight smile, reaching over to squeeze his knee.

"Only mother figure on the planet that actually cuts the crap out of people that cross their kid …"

"Yeah, we make a pretty good team, huh?" Clint said. "You got a bitey kid too."

"Love you too, kiddo," she laughed. "Maybe that should be our whole defense. Just … everyone bite. Sicem. You. Me … just … chomp."

Clint giggled. "Okay," he said. "We can totally do that." With that, he half snuggled into Sicem, eventually drifting off to sleep on the drive to who-knows-where to outrun the guys after K.


	3. Don't Touch My Mom!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which K and Clint run into a bunch of costumed heroes... who don't exactly know what to make of the two of them.

 

* * *

 

Clint didn't want K to know that he was still kinda a lot nervous about the bad guys coming after her, especially after what had happened when they grabbed him, so he was fairly quiet when they found a place to camp out for a little while — far from the main roads and in a well-wooded area.

He knew that K had been real mad about how that had gone down, too. He'd never heard her make the sound that she'd made when the bad guys had him, but it had echoed all the way down to his feet, so he knew it had to have scared the bad guys… even if it had scared him a little too.

Not that he'd tell K that. He didn't want her to think he was scared of her, because he  _wasn't_. He just… didn't want to deal with those bad guys again. They had been real big, and he hadn't been able to hit them like he wanted. But… if he  _had_ to, then next time he would work real hard to make sure he  _did_ hit them hard.

"You look like you've got a lot on your mind," K said quietly once she'd settled in a little better. "Not that I blame you."

Clint bit his lip and nodded. "It's just… it's just you're my mom," he said. "And I wanna stay with you."

"Well that  _is_ the plan," she said.

"Yeah, but…" He looked down at his hands. "I'm not real good at fighting those guys."

" _Yet._  It's hard when you're small," she agreed.

"D'you think I'll get better, then?" he asked. "Because I didn't even get to hit 'em like I wanted until after I bit the guy that  _grabbed me_ ," he added, his eyes wide as he tried to emphasize how little he'd been able to do of what he had been learning.

"Of course you will," K replied. "They got the drop on you, too. Don't forget that. I know you weren't expecting them."

"Yeah, I guess that's true too," he allowed, then bit his lip and looked up at her. "I just don't want you to get hurt either."

"I'll be fine," she said, sure to give him a little smile.

He nodded slowly and then started to smile. "Yeah, because you're really scary to bad guys and you can take 'em down," he said.

"I've had a lot of practice," K told him. "Hopefully, you won't have that much."

Clint shrugged. "That's how you get good," he said. When she opened her mouth to argue, he quickly added, "But we can start with some not-super bad bad guys. Like… like training wheels on Barney's bike. Right?"

"Yeah, something like that," she agreed, shaking her head. "Just regular jerks first."

"Okay, yeah. We'll do that," Clint agreed and then made sure to dash over to hug her, his face all but pressed into her side. "I love you a lot, Mom."

"I love you a lot, too," she replied, wrapping him up in a hug.

He grinned at that and then rushed off to go find Sicem. They'd found a barn that it looked like the owners weren't using — maybe they were gone for a summer vacation; Clint didn't know. There was old hay and a loft and everything, and he was more than happy to explore with Sicem, even if K had to warn him to be careful of some of the wood that was in disrepair so he didn't fall.

Even if he  _told_ K that he wasn't scared of heights at all and that he was going to be a pilot one day and fly like a bird. Since, after all, she said he was a baby chick.

And speaking of baby chicks…

"Mom!" Clint shouted, his eyes wide. "Mom, there's a  _nest_  up here!"

"Yeah? What do the babies look like?" K called up to him before she started climbing up to see alongside him.

"Umm… brown," Clint said.

"Fuzzy?"

"Yeah, brown and fuzzy," Clint said, nodding along.

She made her way up and settled in right next to him as he pointed across the open span to where the nest was — tucked up high. "Oh. I thought they might be barn owls, but … nope," K reached over to ruffle his hair. "You probably can't hear it - but mom is getting upset outside. We should get down. Red-tailed Hawks are a little territorial and they won't like us this close."

"Sorta like you, huh?" he teased as he started to follow her down. "Mama hawks don't like it when you mess with their baby chicks?"

"I don't think that there is one kind of animal that appreciates people screwing with their kids," K pointed out.

Clint nodded, jumping the last two rungs on the rope ladder with a smile. "Well, I guess I won't sleep up in the loft so I don't make anybody mad," he said with a nod.

"The loft is probably fine," K said. "But maybe keep out of the rafters."

"Never know — maybe I'll find more babies up there," Clint laughed. "Some owls or maybe some itty bitty ducks or some baby spiders or… lotsa things could be here!" To emphasize his point, he started poking around some of the hay, determined to find more animals.

"More likely just the spiders," K replied. "The smaller, tasty things are going to keep away from the hawks."

"Probably smart," Clint said.

Eventually, Clint did get tired of poking around the barn and came back to find that K had pulled together dinner for them over a small fire outside the barn. She'd made sure to set it up before it got dark so that they wouldn't attract any attention, but Clint wasn't really thinking about that. He just liked the smell of the fire and the warmth and the feeling of sitting in between Sicem and K by the fire.

K pointed out to him a few of the different sounds of the night creatures — she could hear them a lot better than he could, but he could pick out some of them if they were clear or loud enough. And she also showed him a few tracks before they lost the light altogether, and K kicked some dirt on the last embers of the fire.

Clint ultimately decided that he wouldn't stay in the loft, because he wanted to give the mama hawk plenty of space. Instead, he curled up with Sicem close by where K would sleep — though at the moment, she didn't look like she was getting ready to sleep, instead listening to the night world around them.

She was frowning, and Clint sat up a little straighter when he saw it, tapping her arm to get her attention and sign out,  _You okay?_

She held one finger to her lips and tipped her head, eyes closed, as she listened a little harder to the night around them.  _Go hide_.  _Quietly._

Clint nodded quickly and got to his feet, doing his best to be as sneaky as he could as he ducked further back into the barn. There were some tall stacks of hay that he thought might be good hiding places — and there would be space for K, too.

He had only just ducked out of sight when he caught the first glimpse of soldiers starting to melt out of the darkness, and his heart skipped a beat. He clapped a hand over his mouth to try and stay quieter, ducking down further. He was sure his mom would handle it like she had before — but he didn't want them to find him and make her mad again.

Clint stayed low as much as he could before he popped his head out just slightly to see how things were going... but unlike the other times he'd seen K take on guys like this, it didn't look like she was winning. At all.

He winced down behind the hay as the soldiers rushed in around K. She wasn't fighting as gracefully as she usually did with a handful of what looked like darts sticking out of her arm and shoulder, but that didn't mean she was making it easy for them, either. Clint wanted to help if he could, sneaking around the edge of the fight to look for an opening. He still had his pocket knife in his back pocket that he could maybe throw if he could get a clear shot at the people closest to K, though there were a  _lot_ of them.

But when K started to stumble a bit, Clint saw an opening and threw his knife right through the wrist of the soldier who reached for K when she slipped — exactly like K had taught him to throw it. So that was pretty good, even if it meant that the guys in black uniforms looked his way and it was starting to dawn on Clint that  _oh yeah that might have been stupid_.

As a few of the soldiers moved to start to carry K off, and it was obvious she was drifting into unconsciousness, a pair of soldiers split off to move toward Clint. But before they could get any further, a new group came rushing in.

Clint didn't know who any of these people in weirdly colorful clothes were, and as long as they were fighting off the guys in black uniforms, he didn't exactly care — right up until one of the newcomers stooped down to pick up K.

And then it didn't really  _matter_ who these new guys were. He didn't care if it was a power play or what; he just knew that nobody —  _nobody_ — got to put their hands on K.

He didn't have his pocket knife on him anymore, but these guys hadn't snuck up on him, and K had taught him how to make it count if he really  _had_ to fight, so in a rush of little-boy snarls, Clint launched himself from behind the bales of hay to attack the guy in yellow and blue.

What he couldn't have known — because he had never in his life read a newspaper or anything — was that these newcomers were the X-Men, and the guy he was  _trying_ to take down was an Avenger to boot, Wolverine, and there was just no way the hits were going to put Wolverine down, even if he was hitting all the right spots that K had shown him.

Not that it was going to deter him from trying even harder when the guy holding K didn't go down right away. That was his  _mom_ , after all.

And Logan, for his part, was more than a little caught off his guard by the tiny, blond ball of fury that had attached himself as soon as he'd bent down by the little brunette to carry her back to the jet.

The kid couldn't have been more than eight, maybe. And yet it was abundantly clear that someone had taught him how to fight, because if it hadn't been for the adamantium and the healing, some of those hits would have actually done him some damage.

It was clear to tell the kid was terrified, and Logan tried to get him to calm down. "Take it easy, kid," Logan rumbled out as he frowned at the flurry of kicks and hits. "You're gonna hurt yourself." But the kid's scent and heart rate spiked when Scott got there to try and help Logan by pulling the kid off of him.

" _Leave her alone!_ " Clint shrieked, squirming around as Scott tried to get a better hold of him while Logan shifted how he was holding the unconscious woman and simply carried her toward the jet.

"It's alright," Scott tried to explain to the clearly panicked boy. "It's alright; we're not going to hurt either of you."

But Clint flat-out didn't believe Scott and simply responded by biting his hand hard enough that a very surprised Cyclops simply dropped Clint, and Clint took off at a sprint to catch up to Logan and K.

By the time he caught up, Logan was almost to the blackbird with K, where Hank would be there to give her a better once-over, considering some of the heavy drugs that Logan could smell they'd given her, but once again, he had a very angry eight-year-old to deal with when Clint rushed to block him. "Comin' back for more, killer?" Logan asked over his shoulder.

"You better let her go or — or you'll be in trouble," Clint shot back, still wide-eyed and with his hands in fists.

"I'm just gettin' her away from the creeps in the black pajamas," Logan said, totally undeterred.

Clint shook his head, clearly not believing the line, but this time, Clint didn't get close enough to Logan, telekinetically pulled back. Jean reached out a hand to clear the path for Logan to deal with the unconscious woman and she reached out telepathically to calm Clint down.  _We're here to help,_ she promised Clint.  _We just want to make sure she's alright and get her some medical help if she needs it._

Clint spun around to face Jean, his eyes wide and his hands clenched in fists, but he didn't launch himself at the tall, pretty redhead like he had with Logan, instead just glaring at her. It was clear to the whole team that Clint was terrified, but since they hadn't known there was a kid in play going in, a lot of them were thrown off their game.

Jean gave Clint her warmest, friendliest smile as she slowly walked toward him. "You can stay with her," she offered.

Clint didn't need any more excuse than that before he took off at almost a run to the jet with a golden retriever flying behind him, both of them climbing inside and surprising Hank as the little boy simply rushed to K's side, looking distressed at the fact that she wasn't awake yet — and then outright terrified when he saw that there was a fuzzy blue Beast working on her.

Jean reached out to put a hand on Clint's shoulder to stop him from doing something rash like attacking Hank the way he'd attacked Logan, but Clint pulled away from her and rushed to put himself between K and Hank with such a look of terrified determination that it set Hank back a step.

"She's not hurting anybody so just — just leave her alone!" Clint insisted in a shaky voice as Sicem pushed his head under Clint's hand, half whining at him until the little boy automatically started petting the dog's ears.

"My dear boy, I would never harm someone who is to be under my care," Hank said as gently as he could, though it was clear he was taken aback by the young man. "We simply wish to get you far away from the men who were trying to capture her."

" _You_ guys're the ones capturing her!" Clint pointed out with his chin stuck out defiantly.

"Young man, we're getting you away from the men that  _had her_ captive." He shook his head and crouched down so he was on Clint's level. "You'll both be free to leave if you choose once we're away from these rogues."

Clint narrowed his eyes at Hank, clearly not believing him in the least. "Sure," he muttered.

"Now, if it's all the same to you, I'd like to monitor her and make sure that whatever they drugged her with doesn't kill her."

Clint frowned for just a moment before he finally stepped aside and nodded. "Okay, but I'm not going anywhere, and if you hurt her, you'll get it," he warned seriously, though once Hank started to set K up for monitoring, he went from standing in front of K to a more nervous sort of hover, peering over to make sure he could see she was okay for himself.

While Hank was working on K, Jean sat down next to Clint to try to give him a better introduction for the team, since it was clear he was scared still. "What's your name?" she asked with a gentle smile.

"You first," Clint shot back without missing a beat, and Jean shook her head at that and ignored the smirk from Logan that she didn't even have to turn around to know about.

"Jean," she said, still trying to give him a reassuring smile.

"Clint," the little boy said, watching Jean carefully as she smiled and went through the names of everyone in the jet, though she was surprised when he actually let out a sort of snort when she explained that "we're the X-Men."

"Uh-huh, okay, no really," Clint said.

She smiled his way, doing her best not to laugh. "No. Really. That's what we call ourselves. Kind of like the Avengers but more specialized."

"Okay, but the Avengers are superheroes and I've never heard of you," Clint said.

Logan snorted as Jean tried again to explain that yes, they were also heroes, just not as well known. "Most of our work is for the mutant community."

"O….kay," Clint said, wrinkling his nose at her. "So how come you're here?"

She paused and blinked a couple of times before she tipped her head K's way. "Your friend... She needed help."

"My mom," Clint corrected her quickly. "And she can handle herself."

"Alright, your mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to assume. And … those people were going to take her. We fight them more often than we should have to."

"Are they after you too?"

"Some of us," she said, nodding.

Clint looked around the jet with a little frown before he slowly nodded and crossed his arms. "She can kick their butts."

"That's good," Jean said, nodding. "But everyone needs a little help now and again." She leaned forward a little bit. "Can you tell me what it is that she can do?"

Clint looked over at K and frowned for a moment. "I guess… I guess she has super hearing and stuff," he said. "And she can smell  _way_ better than me." He leaned forward with a little smile, seemingly unheeding the silence that had suddenly descended on the jet. "And she can kick butt with knives and swords and a bow and  _everything_ , so watch out!"

The jet was quiet again, and Clint looked around at the suddenly frowning group. But since he had no idea why they all looked like they were just starting to realize  _why_ the soldiers had been after K, he just grinned that much wider. "Toldja she's scary."

 _Well, that explains the size of the force that went after them,_ Scott said, though the adults were sure to keep their conversation telepathic when there was an obviously stressed kid in the jet.

"Water's in the cabinet in the back if you need it," Logan said to Clint, since the others were obviously trying to figure out how to handle this situation.  _Might be making a mistake taking her in,_  Logan added toward the group.  _Just barely got 'em to back off_.

 _More reason to take her in,_ Jean pointed out.

 _Could take her to the Avengers instead,_ Logan replied.  _Too many mutants they want in one place could be more than they'll pass up._

 _We're_ not  _taking her to the Avengers,_ Scott said, giving Logan a dry look.

 _Why not?_ Logan was being perfectly serious.

 _Well for one thing,_ Jean cut in before Scott could get going,  _there's a sweet little boy._

 _Not sure that's much of an argument,_  Logan replied.  _Better security_ —  _more chance of public outcry if they try it there._

 _No one knows how to keep mutants safe_ better  _than us,_ Scott said, shaking his head.  _Come on. This is what we_ do.

_Might want to find out more about her first, Slim._

Clint was completely ignorant of the telepathic conversation going on around him as K finally started to stir a bit — not waking up but slowly coming back out of the full unconsciousness — and he all but tripped over himself to where K was to stand by Hank, craning his neck a bit.

"She's okay, right?" Clint asked, for the first time losing some of the overconfidence.

"It would seem so," Hank replied gently with a little smile. "Perhaps a bit more time."

Clint nodded carefully as he watched K. "She's ... they snuck up on us," he said, defensively. "That's all. She doesn't need help —  _we_ don't need help, okay?"

"I'd still like to speak with her when she wakes up fully," Hank told him — just as gently as before. "That's all. Just a little talk, and you can both be on your way if you so choose."

Clint let his shoulders drop a bit as he exhaled all his breath at once. "Fine. I  _guess_ ," he said, settling in to wait.

When K did finally open her eyes, it was to quickly glance around her surroundings before she sat up and took a more thorough look at everyone in the plane — at least until she saw Logan. Then, it was clear she'd recognized him, and every muscle was tensed, ready to fight her way out.

Not that Logan's reaction was anything to deter the situation. Once he saw her react, he couldn't help but tense up too. And that's how the two of them spent the next long few moments — just waiting for the other to make a move.

And once again, the mood of the jet had shifted. Where before, Clint had relaxed a bit, once he saw that K was tense and watching Logan, he was right back to not trusting the group and standing between K and Hank, which had the good doctor frowning at the two strangers.

Jean frowned and held her hands out and up between them. "No one is going to hurt anyone," she said evenly.

K didn't respond except for the slight tightening around her eyes as she tried to figure out which of them she'd hit first, and when her gaze found Clint, he quickly signed out a quick question: " _Run?"_

She nodded minutely in response and tightened her fists, ready to call the redhead a liar, though the confrontation came to a sudden and immediate pause when they were nearly to Westchester and both of the newcomers simply… froze.

"Yeah, that'll make this go easier," Logan deadpanned.

"At least it'll get us to the school and out of the  _sky_ ," Scott pointed out.

"This isn't going to keep your plane in one piece anyhow," Logan said, turning his head to look out the window — and to rile Scott.

"You're not going to throw down with her in front of her son," Scott said.

"You don't know if he's her son," Logan said, sounding totally unconcerned.

"Oh, well that changes everything," Scott said dryly. "Go ahead and throw down then; I'm sure he won't mind."

"I wasn't gonna fight her — just stop her." Logan shook his head with his eyes closed. "But since I've got  _permission_ …"

"Both of you stop it," Jean said, shaking her head at them. "We can figure this out when we're on the ground."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so even though there's still plenty more to this story, the made one-a-day pace will be pausing for a moment so me and my husband can go on a romantic anniversary trip for a little while. I'll be back later!


	4. After School Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint and K get to know the X-Men a little better and decide, FOR NOW, that they'll try staying for a little while.

 

* * *

When the blackbird got to Westchester, the X-Men knew at this point that trying to separate the two newcomers wouldn't be the best idea, considering what little they had seen of the very protective relationship they both had. Instead, Charles arranged to meet them in the cell they had prepared for harder-to-handle cases, though he was sure to not only keep Scott and Jean with him but to plant the psychic suggestion in both Clint's and K's minds that they were in a classroom at the school.

All at once, as soon as Charles allowed the two of them to return to the here and now, K stiffened up further and quickly pulled Clint around to stand behind her just before a low, rumbling growl echoed the room. "What do you  _want_?" she managed to get out between clenched teeth.

"My apologies," Charles said with a serene smile. "I know it can be disorienting, but we had to get you and your young friend away from the men who were after you — preferably without crashing a plane in an unnecessary confrontation."

She narrowed her eyes further. "And where the hell are we now?"

"The Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters," Charles said.

"Yeah? Then why does it smell like a lab?"

Charles couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "I thought it would be best to meet in a friendlier setting."

"Get out of my head, and keep away from my boy." She was physically blocking Clint from them, doing her best to keep him behind her, though Clint was taking a similarly protective stance, sticking close to K and obviously sizing up the X-Men for a fight.

"No one here is going to do anything to endanger him," Charles assured her. "We only wanted to speak to you about the people who were chasing you."

She tipped her chin up slightly. "Why? You have some kind of deal with them? Competition?"

Charles shook his head. "We have no dealings with them or anyone like them," he promised. "In fact, the X-Men are working to dismantle and fight the very ideas that formed programs like that one."

She smirked crookedly, though there was no actual humor to it. "Fight a weapon with a weapon, huh? Not very original."

Charles frowned and leaned forward. "Actually," he said slowly, "what we're proposing is far more revolutionary. Peaceful coexistence, an end to the fight between mutantkind and mankind."

"I'm not looking for the pamphlet."

"You asked what we wanted," Charles said simply. "I'm only answering your question."

She shook her head. "I don't give a crap about your mission statement. I want to know what you want from  _us_. And I don't buy your line. Not with who you have in your little group."

For a moment, Charles frowned, though slowly, he started to nod. "And what, exactly, is it about Wolverine that you take exception to?"

But that just got a lower growl out of her. "Don't try to pull that crap. You know damn well what the problem is."

"I don't, actually," Charles said. He gestured to her with both hands. "Please. Enlighten me."

"You're a liar. You know it, and if you want to pretend like you don't know who he is — that's on you."

"He's an X-Man," Scott broke in.

"Then I'm not so sure you're anyone we should be near," K shot back.

"I don't know what you've heard about him," Jean said with a frown. "But the X-Men, Logan included, are a force for  _peace_."

"Then what's with the deterrent?" K asked.

Scott frowned and tipped his head K's way. "Every one of us has been branded dangerous by some organization or another—"

"Yeah, but that one has all of the credentials. You? No way you're on the same level. I don't buy it."

Scott took a step forward, but Jean put a hand on his shoulder with a sharp look that carried a psychic warning to  _cool it_ before she looked toward K. "We don't turn people away for their pasts," she said.

"Especially if you can use them, right?"

"This is  _not_ a weapons program," Charles said, more firmly than before.

K turned his way with a completely unconvinced and very dry expression as her wordless response.

For a long moment, the room was quiet until Clint poked his head around K, watching the adults in the room wide-eyed. "So… can we just… go?" Clint asked quietly.

K took a moment to try and breathe a little deeper in an effort to relax her stance for him. "We don't even know who these people are or where they took us," K said with her head turned so she knew Clint could read her lips, even though she was unbelievably quiet about it.

Clint nodded and bit his lip before he turned toward Charles with his shoulders back a bit. "My mom'll kick your butts, so you should just back off and just… we don't need any help — so go away."

"Yeah, you were both in really good shape when we found you," Scott said with a dry tone.

Clint turned Scott's way and simply shook his head. "You guys just showed up  _after_  I scared 'em."

But at that, K's expression went a bit more flat and she simply watched the little boy for a long moment as she weighed it out. If it had just been her, she wouldn't have given these guys a second thought. But hearing Clint say that he had actually tried to take the soldiers on himself was just the reminder she needed that she wasn't in this alone. And she couldn't risk any mistakes with Clint.

"I don't appreciate the fake scenery," K said, finally meeting Charles' gaze and refusing to look away.

Charles very slowly nodded, and in an instance, the two of them were able to see the room as it was for the first time — which set Clint back a step behind K again as he scowled around at it. K might have had good reason to be suspicious of a lab, but even to Clint's young mind, the whole setup looked… worrisome. Not to mention the fact that it was  _so_ different to what they had just been looking at

"You're not really instilling a sense of confidence here," K said, taking hold of Clint's arm — and this time, he stayed close behind her, honestly off his guard.

"You were ready to attack my team," Charles said.

"What makes you think I still won't?"

"I think we would both like to resolve this peacefully," Charles said. "We simply want to know why these people were after you — and offer our help, if you want it."

She tipped her head to the side and glanced at both Jean and Scott for a moment before settling back on Charles. "How many reasons do you think they need to hunt someone down?"

"I know that they would love to find powerful mutants to turn to their own devices. But they are  _hunting_ you, not just trying to use a mutant they came across," Charles pointed out.

She gave him a pointed look as if to say 'there's your answer.' "Do you really  _not_ have a clue on that?"

Charles shook his head lightly. "I simply want to know how… invested they are in getting you back."

"Enough."

"Then we'd be more than happy to let you stay here," Charles told her. "You wouldn't be the only mutants to use our school as a refuge."

At the mention of schooling, K seemed to pause. There, again, was the reminder that she wasn't the only one facing this situation. "Might not hurt for you to work on your spelling a little bit," K said with her head turned Clint's way. "You're probably better off than the big guy, but …"

Clint snickered a little at the look on Scott's face. "Yeah, I am for sure."

"This  _is_ a school," Jean said with a smile that seemed overly warm next to Charles' look of concentration and Scott's annoyed look at already being the subject of picking — even if Jean's expression was just as genuine as the expression the men wore.

"He's not the spelling teacher, is he?" K asked, clearly baiting Clint into more giggles.

"No, that's Storm," Jean said. "I can introduce you."

The two newcomers shared a raised eyebrow look as K mouthed,  _Sto-orm._

Clint just grinned and signed out,  _One is clothing and one is weather. Weirder names than mine._

"Told you eventually you'd find someone weirder." K leaned closer to Clint. "Looks like you hit the jackpot of crackpots."

He grinned and leaned into her too. "I  _did_ wanna run away to the circus."

"They got the clown clothes right then, huh?" K teased.

"Oh yeah," Clint giggled.

"I can give you a tour of the school," Jean offered Clint's way with a smile. "If you want."

Clint looked toward K, but when she seemed to be leaving it up to him, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said, then stuck a finger out to point at Jean. "But you have to promise you're going to bring me back to Mom, or I'll kick your trash."

"I promise," Jean said, still with that warm smile, and waited for Clint to give K a quick hug and a whispered 'kick their butt' before he followed her out so that K could talk to Charles and Scott without having to censor herself in front of the young ears in the room.

And meanwhile, Clint was taking the tour, wide-eyed at how  _big_ the school was. He'd gone to Kindergarten, yeah, and there was a school that the home he and Barney had stayed in fed into… but this was  _not_ like any school he'd ever seen, and he got a lot quieter the longer he followed Jean around.

"It's really big," he said at last when they weren't even halfway through the tour. Without K, he felt a lot smaller — because this school was clearly made for bigger people than him and kids that had more than the handful of clothes K had bought for him and Barney.

Considering how poorly Clint and his mother had reacted to Charles' psychic incursion before, Jean was trying to keep her mind to herself — but she couldn't help but peek in when she saw Clint shrinking in on himself a bit. And when she caught what he was thinking — that he wasn't good enough for a nice place like this — she made it a point to point out a few of the personal touches that the students had all put on the place, hoping that he would catch the hint that there were people there from all walks of life.

But when they got to the living room, where Storm was reading on the couch, Jean noticed that the little boy suddenly got a bit of his swagger back, simply because someone was watching him now.

"Who is this handsome young man?" Storm asked as she looked up from her book and gently closed it on her place marker.

"My name's Clint," the little boy said with a little grin.

She gave him a warm smile and offered her his hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Clint. I'm Ororo, but everyone here likes to call me Storm."

"Oh, you teach spelling," Clint said, starting to grin a little wider.

"I teach English, but spelling is part of that," she agreed. "Do you like to spell?"

Clint shrugged. "Not really," he admitted. "I'm not very good at it. But Mom says I should work on it."

"Then will you be joining me in my classroom?" she asked, still smiling his way as she looked entirely engaged. After all, it wasn't every day that someone as small as Clint found his way into the institute — and it certainly wasn't every little boy who had Clint's outlook, sense of humor, and frank way of speaking. Even if a lot of that was still only there for Jean to hear in his thoughts.

"I'm not…" Clint bit his lip. "What grade do you teach?"

"All of them," Storm replied easily.

"Okay." Clint nodded. "Okay then, yeah, I might be in your class, I guess. If my mom decides we're staying here for a while."

Storm glanced up at Jean with a slight wrinkle of her brows. "I'm glad to hear you have someone with you. Most of our students don't have parents."

Clint looked around the place. "This is one of those rich people foundations huh?"

Storm smiled wider. "You could say that."

"So…" Clint looked around at the lavish setting. "Do you try and find families for everybody, or are you just a 'home'?"

She shook her head. "We're more like a boarding school for those with families — and a family for those without." She tried for another kinder smile. "You're welcome to ask the students about us."

"Maybe I will," Clint said. He took a deep breath as he glanced up at Jean. "Do you all got powers, then?" he asked. "'Cause I don't got anything but my pocketkni-" He stopped. "Oh… no. I don't even got a pocketknife. I used it on one of those creeps and I didn't get it back."

"I'm sure we can get you a new one," Jean told him.

Clint nodded thoughtfully, though he didn't get to say much more before Sicem came bounding over to catch up to him, followed closely by a laughing Kitty, who stopped when she saw Clint.

The golden started whining again, his tail wagging as he kept putting his head under Clint's hands, nosing at him to pet him more and licking at his hands as he did so. It was painfully clear that the dog was worried about Clint.

Clint smiled down at Sicem and scruffed his ears. "Hey, boy. Didja miss me?" he teased lightly, crouching down to get completely bowled over by the enthusiastic dog now that Clint was smiling and scratching his ears. And Sicem kept right on licking him until he was giggling so hard that he had the hiccoughs.

When Sicem finally let him up, Clint found that the three girls in the room were grinning, and he flushed red. "Umm… um, this is my dog," he said softly. "His name's Sicem."

"I'm sorry, his name is what?" Kitty said, her brows furrowed, though she was grinning wider somehow.

"His name's Sicem," Clint said, fingerspelling it for her just in case, without really thinking about it, so that it was even clearer. After all, if she hadn't heard, he wanted to help. And if she had and was being dumb, he wanted to make it  _real_ clear.

"I just … I've never heard a dog named something like that," she said. "I thought he'd be like … I don't know… Max. Or … Noble … something … that fits a fluffy slobberpuss."

Clint shrugged easily. "Mom named him, but I like it."

"Okay … that's … interesting," Kitty said. "He's been a perfect gentleman."

"Yeah, he only thinks he's a guard dog," Clint said with a crooked grin before he stuck his hand out to say hello. "I'm Clint, by the way."

"Kitty," she replied, taking his hand with the smile still in place. "Are you hungry?"

Clint shrugged. "Not really," he said. "Mom and I already ate dinner, and as soon as she's done talking to people, we'll just… get set up."

"Oh, okay," Kitty said, looking a little surprised. "Um … are you going to have your own room then, or are you two … or three … going to share a suite?"

Clint wrinkled his nose at her. "I dunno," he said. "I have my own room at home, but I don't think I should leave Mom alone with  _strangers_.".

"I thought you said she could kick all of our butts," Jean teased.

Clint scrunched up his nose and stuck his tongue out at her. "Well,  _yeah_ , but we still gotta stick together."

"I'm teasing, of course," Jean said, smiling. "They should be done any time, and if you want to stay close to each other, I'm sure we can arrange for a suite."

"Okay," Clint said with a little nod, glancing around at the three of them and then biting his lip. "So… umm. I don't really know what I'm s'pposed to do here? I mean, we walked around…"

"If you're going to go to school here for a little while, then we could talk about what classes you need," Jean said. "But that might be something to wait for your mom for."

"Yeah," Clint said quietly, scrunching up a little bit with his shoulders up to his ears. "I dunno about stuff like that."

"You did say that you wanted to learn spelling," Storm said with a warm smile.

Clint nodded. "Yeah, I'm not real good at it," he said. "So I gotta learn."

"Would you like to spell a bit with me?" Storm offered. "So we can find a place to start."

Clint glanced up at Jean again, and when she gave him an encouraging smile, he nodded. "Okay," he said. "I guess we can do that."

He quietly followed Storm to a classroom so that he wasn't being watched the whole time, and he bounced his foot against the chair he was sitting on a few times as he watched Storm.

"So… I can sound things out and stuff," he offered.

"That's a wonderful start," Storm agreed. "So why don't you tell me the hardest word you know how to spell?"

"Ummm." Clint bit his lip and then started to smile despite himself when he remembered something Barney had helped him read… "I can spell… it's part of your ear and it's c-o-c-h-l-e-a."

Storm looked pleasantly surprised. "That is an impressive word. How do you know that one?"

Clint frowned. He had been trying to impress Storm, convince her that he wasn't as stupid as he felt — but he hadn't been expecting her to ask to see behind the curtain of that particular trick. "I … I read it," he said quietly. "On a doctor sheet."

She nodded at that and rifled in her desk for a sheet of paper. "Let's try a few words out. I'll say them slowly, and you do your best to spell them." She handed him a blank notebook and a pencil. "Take your time."

Clint frowned as he took the pencil in his hand, his face flushed. His handwriting was atrocious, and he knew it. And he hadn't done a lot of writing in… a long time. K had helped him read some stuff while they were together but … he found himself absently spelling the words with his hands, fingerspelling before he wrote it down.

Storm didn't say anything about how slow he was or about the fact that he had to fingerspell it first, though when Logan got there, it was clear he'd picked up on that as he watched Clint work.

Logan stayed near the door, arms crossed and patiently waiting until Clint was finished, and when Clint finally realized Logan was standing there, Logan cleared his throat. "Your Mom's lookin' for you — if you're done."

Clint glanced at Storm. "Can I go?" he asked.

"Of course," Storm replied. "I'm sure we have plenty to work with for now."

Clint nodded. "Thanks!" he said before he simply rushed off, not really thinking about the fact that he didn't know how to get there.

"Hey kid," Logan called out. "Wrong way." He tipped his head and pointed the right direction. "Three doors to the kitchen."

Clint skidded to a stop and looked up at Logan and then nodded and quickly changed directions, rushing off again and leaving Storm smirking and shaking her head.

"So," she said, glancing up at Logan. "I'm sure I could ask Jean what was said, but tell me what  _you_ think of our new visitors."

"They're interesting," Logan replied. "She didn't say much about the kid outside of 'mine' and 'not your business'."

"They have a dog named Sicem," Storm said with a smirk.

Logan couldn't help but smirk at that too. "Like Little John."

"I had the same thought," she chuckled.

"Not sure how long they'll stick around though — so get in what you can with the kid."

Storm let out a sigh. "It's obvious he's behind in academics," she admitted. "But he is smarter than he realizes. Even with just the spelling test I gave him — he was faster spelling it with his hands and more accurate than when he tried to write it."

"They were signing in the jet," Logan said, nodding. "They got a system figured out."

"I wouldn't be surprised in the least if he was at least partially deaf," Storm admitted. "He knew 'cochlea' but not 'ardent' or even 'rain'."

"Yeah, might explain a few things," Logan said, nodding. "How was he otherwise? She didn't trust one of us any further than she could throw me."

"He's reserved for the most part, until he forgets to be," Storm said with a spark of laughter in her gaze. "Once he was playing with his dog, he was just like you'd expect any boy to be. It was only when we asked him about himself or his mother…"

He nodded. "She's fighting programming. Kinda curious how long it'll last."

"What else did she tell you?" Storm asked, leaning forward, genuinely curious about the newcomers.

"Not much," Logan admitted. "Assumed we'd know what the basics were, refused to elaborate. Only got out of her what some of her specialty training was when Charlie pressed."

"And?"

"And she's fighting some of that training," Logan replied as he kicked himself off of the wall and started out the door.

Storm let out a sigh. "And you don't think they'll be staying."

"I don't know," Logan said. "She's contrary as hell. Could go either way."

"Well, we'll just have to see," Storm said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let it be known that we wrote this up and planned it all out BEFORE dragonwriter did her darling moment of Storm telling Clint that he's smart in her own story. Great minds think alike, my darling. MWUAH.


	5. Jean's In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean tests Clint's aptitude for math and really wants a tiny little kid around the mansion.

 

* * *

 

When Clint caught up to K, she hadn't really said much more than that they would be staying there for a little while — just until she could figure out an exit plan that wouldn't bring the bad guys down on them.

But that meant that, for the time being, they were living in a  _school_ , and even though it was springtime and the school year was almost over, Storm had let him know that she would help him if he wanted to learn what he could while he was there. And K had seemed to like that idea, so Clint decided he should  _try_.

Not that the thought did much for his mood.

 _You alright_? K signed to him once they'd gotten a little removed from the bulk of the group.

Clint shrugged.  _I guess,_ he said.  _This isn't really…_ He paused as he tried to order his thoughts.  _I wanted to spend more time with_ you _._

_I'm not going anywhere without you._

_Yeah, but there's all these people..._

_People don't always mean bad._

Clint nodded.  _I know, but I don't know them and I'm not good at school and-_ He bit his lip and then hugged her. "I don't want anyone else to know I'm stupid," he whispered to her.

"Then it's a really good thing that you're not," K replied.

"But I am, and now they've got it written down on a test how much I am," he whispered.

"You're not," K promised. "And anyone who says differently is out of their minds."

Clint hugged her a little tighter at that and nodded. "Are we gonna be here for a long time?" he asked. "What about Christmas? I want to go home with Barney."

"It's springtime," K said. "We have plenty of time — and I think if I don't attack anyone, I can probably get to their computers to find out where the bad guys are looking."

Clint nodded at that. "Okay," he said. He bit his lip and glanced up at her through the hug. "I liked when it was just us, that's all."

"I know," she said. "But these people have resources I can take advantage of. And it wouldn't hurt for you to try a little schooling."

Clint let out a breath of a sigh. "Okay,  _fine_ ," he said.

* * *

Although Storm was working with Clint on his reading and writing, Jean had informed the rest of the X-Men that she was going to work with him on some basic math, even if Bobby usually handled the math class. She had absolutely staked her claim on the adorable little boy, and  _almost_ everyone knew better than to question her on it.

"You sure you have time?" Scott teased as they sat down over coffee could hear how excited she was about spending some time with Clint, so of course he couldn't just let it be.

"I think I know what my own schedule is like, Mr. Summers," Jean said with her shoulder shrugged up slightly.

Scott chuckled and leaned over to kiss her. "I'm just saying — there are plenty of other people who could work with him. Everybody's volunteered."

"Do you think I'm not the right person for the job?" she asked, smirking up at him.

Scott shook his head with a laugh. "I think you'll do great," he said.

"Then what," she asked, stealing a kiss. "Is the problem?"

"No problem," he said, smirking a little harder. "Just making sure you were aware that I can  _hear_ what you're thinking in there."

"You … can just … stop."

Scott smirked. "Have fun tutoring, Mrs. Summers," he said and stole one more kiss.

"I'll be looking for you when I'm done, Mr. Summers," she called back.

"I'm sure you will be."

She narrowed her eyes and couldn't help but tip his coffee away from him telekinetically just to get back at him — and to hear his laughter, even if it wasn't for everyone to hear.

When she did catch up to Clint, he had his eyes narrowed as he looked over a book that Storm had given him to work on V a beginner reader book, a few chapters long, but enough that he didn't feel like he was getting  _kids' books,_  which was a point of contention when they'd started out.

But he looked up when he saw Jean and folded the corner of the page he was on to wave at her. "Heya," he said. "So, you're doing math, right?"

"That's the plan," Jean said with a broad smile. "Do you like math?"

He shrugged. "I dunno," he admitted. "I did some flashcards when I did classes? But I didn't really… it's been a while."

"Well, we'll just spend a little time going over a few questions to see what you know already — then we'll know where to start," she assured him, still smiling warmly.

Clint nodded at that. "Okay, so like what Storm did when she wanted to know how I spelled?"

"Exactly like that," Jean agreed. "But when we're done, we can get some popcorn."

"That bad, huh?" Clint said, looking up at her with one eye winced shut.

"No, I just like popcorn," Jean said. "If you'd rather snack on something else …"

"No, I like popcorn," Clint said. "I get it all the time when we go see my brother."

Jean paused at that. "What do you mean 'when you see your brother'? Why isn't he with you now?"

Clint stopped and glanced up at her before he quickly curled into himself a bit. "He's bigger," he said. "So ... so he … it doesn't really matter. I'm not s'pposed to be telling people stuff anyway," he muttered.

Jean frowned at that and ducked her head down slightly to look him in the face better. "Clint — you know we just want to make sure you're safe, right? I'm only asking because I don't know how you and K got separated from your brother." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "If he's in danger — if we need to get him out — then you need to tell us where he is so we can help him."

Clint frowned and shook his head. "No, he likes where he is," he said, speaking mostly to his hands. "He's learning lots of stuff."

"Then I don't understand," Jean said. "Why …"

Clint glanced up at her and saw the honest confusion in Jean's expression before he shrugged and decided to try and explain at least a little bit — even if he was trying to shield his brother from these guys if he could. "Well, he's older," he said. "And it's hard for older kids to get families."

Jean was frowning deeper by that time. "So … are you telling me that K didn't want to take him too?"

"Well, she offered, but he said no," Clint said. "He likes where he is too much, and he'd already sorta picked it out before we found him." He shrugged. "When Mom found me, we were already separated. It's not  _her_ fault." He wanted to make that part clear, at least — he didn't want anyone to think that his mom was heartless or something. Even if he didn't know if these people were worth caring about… his mom shouldn't get a bad rap.

"When she fo-" Jean stopped herself and reorganized her thoughts for a moment. "Where did she find you?"

Clint blushed and shook his head. "Nowhere," he muttered quickly, suddenly realizing that he might have given too much away — and that he might get in trouble for being a runaway. Or get  _K_ in trouble because he ran away.

"Clint," Jean said, reaching out to cover his hand with hers. "We're not going to try and separate you."

Clint bit his lip and shook his head. "It doesn't matter anyway. I like K better'n anything else I got. She's  _nice_."

"She hasn't been very nice to us," Jean pointed out. "But as long as you two are doing well …"

Clint nodded. "She's my mom, and I love her," he said in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone. "And my brother loves her too, but he's being a butt and wants to stay where he is. Which I guess is okay because he's happy — but still."

"Okay, I was just curious," Jean said.

"Yeah, everybody's asking questions all the time," Clint agreed. "Storm wanted to know how come I hadn't gone to school a lot, and I told her Mom's been trying to help me learn stuff."

"I can ask them to lighten up a little bit," Jean offered, clearly picking up on his discomfort. "We honestly weren't expecting you when we went to help her."

Clint gave her a little smile at that. "You know what? That… that's actually real good, because the bad guys that know I'm around are  _mean_ ," he told her, leaning forward with bright eyes. "I don't want nobody to know I'm with Mom — so they can't use me, so I can be cover. I don't like 'em at  _all_."

"Yeah, we've fought those bad guys plenty of times," Jean said, resting her chin in the palm of her hand as she watched him. Even for as careful as he was, he kept giving her little hints of what he and K had been through prior to meeting the X-Men, and what she heard thus far had her genuinely intrigued. "They really are the worst."

"I bit one of 'em," Clint told her, grinning wide and clearly proud of himself.

She leaned forward, looking both ways before she grinned crookedly. "I made one think he was an eight year old girl."

Clint giggled at that. "Well, you better watch out, 'cause girls can be mean too, and I'm only seven and I'm pretty mean."

" _You_ better watch out. If the one that thinks he's an eight year old girl gets a look at you, he might just fall in love."

Clint stuck out his tongue. "Gross. You sound like  _Mom_. She keeps saying I'm a lady killer, and I am  _not_."

"I don't know," Jean said, unable to stop herself from brushing the hair out of his eyes. "She might be onto something."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Are we gonna do math or what?"

"Yes, we're gonna do math," she said with a laugh before she handed Clint the papers and started to go over the basics with him. "Just do as much as you can."

Clint nodded, though Jean was pleasantly surprised to find that Clint seemed to do better on this one than on reading and writing. It wasn't that he'd had any more training on it; he just seemed to get it once she had given him the basic rules, even if it took him a little longer than it might normally take.

"Okay," he said, leaning back in his seat when he was finished. "That wasn't  _terrible_  — but don't tell anybody I said so."

"Wow, Clint," she said, looking over his answers and genuinely pleased. "You're good at this."

He shook his head. "Nuh-uh. You just explained it and gave me easy ones."

"No, really," Jean said. "This is all very good."

Clint peered at her a little closer to see if she was joking before he let out a little 'huh'. "I dunno… I just did what you told me to do…"

"You did very well, though. A lot of people can't get it right this often even when they know all the rules."

"Oh." Clint looked back over the sheet, peering over her shoulder in obvious interest. "It's… it's like counting up points in archery, though. Or like… how much money stuff costs. I didn't know that's  _math_."

"That's math, Clint — and you're good at it. Very good at it." She grinned at him. "So … popcorn or ice cream?"

"Popcorn," Clint said, still looking rather shocked but grinning despite himself at his unexpected success. "Ice cream is only for when you win a fight."

Jean paused only for a moment at the pronouncement, but Clint looked so perfectly pleased with himself that it was hard for her to find the heart to press him on it.

So, the two of them quickly found themselves in the kitchen waiting for the popcorn to finish popping. Jean hadn't even poured the popcorn into a bowl, though, before K and Charles arrived as well — their own sort of session going on, though Charles had much less luck getting anything out of K.

Clint beamed when he saw his mom, completely ignorant of the long session that had Charles frustrated, even if Jean could hear it. Instead, the little boy skipped over to his mom with pure glee in his expression. "Guess what," he said.

"What?" K said, wrapping him up in a snuggle and then kissing the side of his head.

"Jean says I'm real good at math!"

"Well, you are a genius," K said as if it was obviously common knowledge.

"I am  _not;_  I'm just good at math," Clint said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes at her before he looked over at Jean. "She's funny."

But K wasn't going to let him get away without building him up, and she simply grinned as she started to list: "And you're good at archery, and you know sign, and you're  _hilarious_  …"

"Okay, yeah that's true, I am definitely hilarious," Clint giggled.

"And you can swear in Swedish …" K added quietly — just for Clint.

Clint started to laugh even harder at that. "So, are you done with Mr. Professor X?" he asked.

"I keep telling him that I am, but he isn't listening," K replied. "Mr. Professor Charlie isn't very quick on the uptake."

Clint turned toward Charles and gave him a brilliant smile. "It's okay," he said. "I'm not real smart at some things either, like reading."

Charles gave him a tight smile, but he wasn't about to argue with the clearly enthusiastic little boy — especially when Jean was so clearly entranced with him. "I was just asking your mother how she came to be in danger from that particular group."

"Oh, you mean the bad guys," Clint said.

"And I keep telling you they want me for my body," K said in an exasperated tone.

Clint wrinkled his nose at her. "No, they're just bad," he said.

"No, technically, that's right," K said before she booped his nose. "In the strictest sense of the words."

Clint shrugged at that. "Hey, Jean, can Mom have some popcorn too?" he asked. "I can share mine if you don't got enough."

"I don't mind at all," Jean assured him, clearly watching the interaction between the two of them — which was so very different to the stonewalling K had been doing before.

"I'm good, thanks," K said, though she bumped Clint with her shoulder. "So. Are you just … blowing their doors off? I know you are; you can just be smug and nod like you expected it the whole time."

Clint grinned at her. "Mostly, I don't really see any other kids my age — so I think they're like that soldier who didn't know how to deal with crying kids, y'know?"

"Did you cry at them to see how they handled it?" K asked as she tossed a few kernels at Clint.

Clint giggled and tried to bat the kernels away as they came. "You know… I should try that but…" He leaned forward. "But Jean can get in people's heads. Storm told me what everyone can do — and she might know I'm not crying," he added in a whisper.

She raised her eyebrows at that and whistled for Sicem before she took a moment to show Clint a trick he didn't know the dog could do. "Yeah, that could be a problem," K agreed as she got Sicem to sit perfectly still and then she balanced a kernel of popcorn on the bridge of his nose and pointed a finger at him. "But it could be funny too." She raised one hand and signed to Clint for him to tell Sicem 'good boy'.

Clint grinned. "Good boy, Sicem," he said, obviously enjoying himself.

It happened so fast — the dog whipped his head sideways and snapped at the falling kernel before it could really drop from where his nose had been, and then he scooted forward a few steps with his tail wagging, waiting for them to set him up again. "Okay, so you just … hold his muzzle with one hand," K said as she walked Clint through it, balancing the next piece on Sicem's nose and then, again, pointing a finger at him. "Be patient." She stole a glance at Clint. "On your word, kiddo."

Clint was grinning as he leaned forward to play with Sicem, letting the dog show off his trick as Jean on the other hand leaned toward Charles, her eyes dancing with laughter.

 _Apparently, this is normal for those two. What he would tell me about himself and his mother ... he thinks the world of her, but I'm not sure exactly where he came from before that._ She leaned back as she watched the two of them.  _He's shy of talking about himself beyond what he doesn't realize he says._

 _If you ask her, the answer is 'in the arms of gossamer angels',_  Charles projected back dryly.

Jean smirked.  _Well, wherever it was... he said that she 'found' him, and he was already separated from his brother. And I'd be more concerned if I wasn't sitting here watching the two of them interacting…._

 _We still need the whole story,_ Charles replied.  _The training she's admitted to_ —

Jean nodded.  _I don't want to pull it out of his head, though. We'd lose all of their trust in an instant._

_And to try it with her would have them gone in a heartbeat. We'll have to simply keep asking._

Jean nodded.  _And in the meantime…_ She tipped her head toward where Clint had moved on to totally spoiling Sicem with belly rubs.  _I think they could be fun to have around._

 _They might,_ Charles agreed.  _Scott plans to try and get her into an evaluation._

 _I know,_ she said.  _He wants to see how she and Logan stack up_ —  _for several reasons, really._

_Outside of his deeply hidden concern for Logan's welfare … what is he hoping to find?_

Jean smirked.  _He's interested to see if someone can keep up with Logan, give him backup… and make him toe the line a little more, though that might be wishful thinking._

Charles couldn't help but chuckle to himself at that.  _And I thought he was simply hoping that she wasn't_ just  _trained to take him down._

Jean waved her hand.  _Oh, that too._

 _Even if she can do all of that, there's not much of a chance that she'd join up anyhow,_  Charles pointed out.  _Especially considering her reactions to everyone so far._

 _Give it time,_ Jean suggested.  _He's warming up to us_ —  _that has to count for something._

"They're talking about us," K said to Clint — not at all quietly or even pretending to hide it.

"How do you know?" Clint asked, genuinely curious.

"Watch their expressions," K replied. "Next to no poker face on either one of 'em."

Charles let out a sigh. "We were discussing the situation you've found yourselves in," he allowed.

"Talking about us," K said.

"So, what's the deal?" Clint asked. "Are you gonna kick us out, or are you gonna make us do stuff we don't wanna do, or are you gonna try an' send Mom away, or.."

"At least two of those will get people bleeding from important places," K said easily. "One of them … I'm actually okay with."

Jean shook her head and held up both hands. "We're not going to do any of those things," she promised. "We really just want to help."

"Mmm," K said with a tight smile as Sicem rested his head on her knee. "Heard that song before."

"We mean it," Jean said.

"You and your husband are just … bookends," K said. "Sounds a little Jonestown-ish to me."

Jean narrowed her eyes for only a moment before she sighed and shook her head. "I can't change your mind — or I won't," she said when K looked like she might say something to that. "But I will say if you believed us, it would be a lot simpler. We do actually practice what we preach, so if you need to see it… stick around. It's not just hot air. And yes, now that you mention it, Scott did say something to that effect this morning."

"Jonestown?" K asked. "Should I be throwing out all your Kool-aid?"

"No one's going to rise to the bait, K," Jean said with her arms crossed.

"It was an honest question," K replied, almost wide-eyed.

"It was a quip."

Clint poked his head in between the two women. "Umm… Mom, I know you can take everyone down, but can we maybe just not right now? I wanna take Sicem outside; he needs to pee."

"Alright, sweetheart," K agreed, resting a hand on the back of his neck. "I'll be nice."

Clint grinned up at her and gave her a quick hug and a whispered, "Just for a little while," before he zipped off with Sicem at his heels.


	6. Scared Little Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the X-Men want to get close to Clint, but considering his past... they're not quite going about it the right way.

 

* * *

 

For as clearly enchanted as both Storm and Jean were with the newest, youngest mansion resident, the other X-Men were curious to see what the fuss was about.

They didn't have to look too hard to find Clint, at least, especially when Sicem needed to get out of the house. The students at the school were usually helping to spoil Sicem rotten, too, so more often than not, Clint and the dog were out on the lawn playing fetch, running around, or just exploring the grounds.

When Kurt found Clint, it looked like the little boy was in between bouts of playing, lying sprawled out in the grass, looking up at the sky and grinning.

" _Guten abend_ ," Kurt said gently, catching Clint's attention.

Clint sat up so that he was resting on his elbows and tipped his head to the side a bit. "Hi," he said softly, the big grin dying, even if he was trying to give Kurt a polite smile.

"Have you found your way down to the lake yet?" Kurt asked cheerfully.

Clint nodded quietly. "Yeah." He glanced toward where Sicem was playing with the students and let his gaze drop to his hands. "It's okay. Not as big as mine back home."

"Oh?" Kurt asked, his eyebrows high on his head. "That must be a very big lake then."

"Uh-huh," Clint said. He sat up all the way and looked Kurt over for a moment. "Am I not s'pposed to go without a lifeguard or something? 'Cause I can ask next time…"

"No, no, nothing like that," Kurt said. "At least, not if you're just staying on the shoreline. I simply wanted to see how you liked it here."

Clint bit his lip and seemed to try to look smaller. "I'm okay," he said softly.

"I'm sure you are," Kurt said, though he was trying to see what it was he'd done to shut the boy down. He crouched down nearby, but didn't get too close, sure that his appearance had at least something to do with it. He would never quite get used to the sinking feeling of scaring innocents, but it was par for the course. "You know, this is the first dog to be here at the institute," he said, trying to cajole Clint into a different topic that he knew made him happy.

"Yeah, I guess that's why everyone's spoiling him," Clint said, glancing toward Kurt and then Sicem. "He's my best friend — except  _maybe_ Barney, my brother."

"I had a brother and a sister," Kurt said with a little grin. "They were wonderful."

Clint smiled quietly. "Yeah, my brother's gonna be the best at swords and knives and stuff," he said.

"That sounds like a lot for a young man to take on," Kurt said, grinning a little bit wider now. "Wonderful to hear all the same, though."

"He can do it," Clint said. "He's the best."

"Then he'll have no trouble," Kurt agreed. "Where does one learn such wonderful things?"

Clint glanced up at Kurt for just a moment before his eyes went wide and he shook his head. "No… no … that's not … I'm not gonna tell anybody nothin'," he said quickly, his arms wrapped around his knees.

Kurt's smile slipped away and he tipped his head to the side. "I didn't mean to pry," he said quietly.

Clint got to his feet, his eyes still wide. "You just — you just stay away from my brother," he said before he simply took off, running toward Sicem. And the dog, to his credit, seemed to know how upset Clint was and immediately started trying to play with Clint, bouncing around him and bunting his hand for pets.

Kurt felt awful about derailing Clint and as he watched the boy take off with his dog, Kurt teleported to the control booth where Scott was setting up for a team practice. Of course, he appeared mere inches from Scott's shoulder. "I think I startled our young man."

Scott raised an eyebrow — though he didn't jump nearly as much as he had done when Kurt had first joined the group of X-Men. So at least someone was getting used to Kurt, he supposed.

"Did you teleport this close?" Scott asked dryly.

"Of course not," Kurt scoffed. "I only do that to you. When there is a problem."

Scott let out a long sigh and gestured for Kurt to sit with him. "What happened?"

"I found him outside with the dog, and I tried to chat with him. He mentioned that his brother is learning to handle swords and knives..." Kurt let out a sigh. "I tried to ask about his brother, but I don't see what I did to upset him. Storm says he can be so enchanting and engaging…"

Scott nodded slowly. "Jean's been trying to get him to open up a little more," he said. "But he and his mom are pretty protective of each other. Might be that he's extending that to his brother. I can talk to him, make sure he knows you didn't mean anything by it."

"That would probably be wise," Kurt agreed.

Scott smirked Kurt's way. "Jean's in love with him," he said. "She wants to win him over and convince them both to stay, I think if we can prove that he can trust us, that will be half the battle."

"Then I wish you luck," Kurt replied. "I'm sure it was just my appearance that set him off. It wouldn't be the first time." He gestured to himself. "A blue demon asking where your missing brother is … might be off-putting."

Scott softened his stance and nodded slowly. "Give him time."

It was obvious throughout the team practice that followed that Scott was thinking about what Kurt had told him — he was preoccupied enough that Jean had to smirk at him and give him a little mental nudge, letting him know that she thought it was probably just what Kurt and Scott were thinking — that Clint was just being protective of his brother.

 _It probably doesn't help that his mom is keeping her distance too,_ Jean pointed out.  _He can see that she doesn't trust us._

 _And that's not at just about him either,_ Scott replied.

Jean nodded.  _I know Charles has been working with her._

_The professor has been getting dragged._

_I could try talking to her,_ Jean offered.

 _Great, I'll talk to Clint._ Scott gave her a little smirk and stole a kiss.

Jean had to laugh when she realized that he was pleased with how that had turned it.  _You did that on purpose!_

Scott just smiled a little wider at that but didn't confirm or deny it either way. Instead, he simply made it a point to seek Clint out after the practice — not at all surprised to find him in the kitchen breaking open a bag of pretzels.

Clint didn't seem to notice Scott until he was in his line of sight — he must not have noticed the door opening — and when he did, he froze.

"Jean said I could eat any snacks I wanted," he blurted out quickly, holding onto the bag a little tighter. Scott could also see that he had a few packets of snacks in his pockets, too. And the whole picture was familiar enough that Scott thought he had an idea of at least part of the problem.

"You can have whatever snacks you want," Scott said, holding up one hand palm out. "I wasn't going to stop you."

Clint watched him for a long moment, almost holding his breath, before he nodded quickly and held the bag a little tighter. "Okay. Okay, good," he breathed out.

"You had a few rotten fosters before you found your mom, didn't you?" Scott asked as he tried to keep an even tone.

Clint bit his lip and then nodded. "Uh-huh"

"I don't know why people like that even offer to take kids in," Scott said.

Clint shrugged. "I dunno," he said quietly. "But I got Mom now so …. so I don't need nobody else."

Scott smirked at him and nodded. "You got lucky."

Clint nodded more enthusiastically. "Oh yeah. I'm real glad she found me. We had a real Christmas and everything," he said, smiling shyly.

"We make sure all the kids here get that too," Scott said. "It's always something special when it's a kid that hasn't had a decent Christmas in years."

"I don't want a Christmas here; I want it with my mom," Clint said quickly.

"No, I wasn't … that's not what I was saying," Scott said. "I was just … pointing out that I know how important that is."

Clint nodded, watching Scott with measured suspicion. "Are you gonna ask me more questions, because that's all anybody does around here."

"I was going to try, but if you don't want me to, then I won't," Scott admitted.

"I just don't get how come you wanna know so much," Clint said.

"We like to know about the kids that come here," Scott said. "We don't want to mess anything up for you. Especially when you've got a family."

Clint nodded carefully. "Well… okay," he said slowly. "I just don't wanna ... I don't wanna get my mom in trouble."

"She's not going to get in trouble," Scott said as he started to pull out the chair nearest Clint.

Clint froze when he saw how close Scott was to him and then took a few steps back before, just as he'd done with Kurt, he took off running, leaving Scott more than a little frustrated on how that had gone — especially when it had really felt like he was at least getting a conversation out of him.

* * *

When Clint came down to the game room, he wasn't surprised to see that the TV was on and that it looked like Kurt and Logan had already occupied the couch in front of it, joking around with each other as they watched a hockey game.

At first, Clint didn't really pay them much attention. He'd come down to find the dart board and play darts, because he'd found out he was pretty good at it. Instead of caring about the adults and their game, he simply gathered up the darts and the board and made sure it was at a height he could actually reach without throwing off his aim and went to town.

He had to drag one of the chairs over so that he could reach the board, though when Jean reached out to telekinetically pull the dartboard down for him, he frowned her way. "I got it," he said even as he caught the board in both hands. "I don't need the help."

"Leave him alone, Jeannie; he had it covered just fine on his own," Logan muttered, not looking their way.

"Mother duck," Kurt said quietly with a little giggle.

Jean frowned at both of them and then looked over at Clint, who still looked determined, and shook her head. "Are you sure?"

"I do it all the time," Clint insisted, climbing down from his chair so he could re-hang the dartboard at the right height and then grab his handful of red and blue darts, dragging the chair back into place when he was done.

Kurt tipped his head slightly to the side and barely lifted up a hand. "I can't reach that pillow …" he said before he looked over at Jean with a massive grin as Logan tried to keep from laughing. "Whatever shall I do?"

"You're both hilarious," Jean said, shaking her head at them.

"That's entirely beside the point," Kurt said, still grinning her way.

Jean rolled her eyes at that and then reached out to pick up the pillow and positively bean Kurt in the face with it.

Clint flashed Jean a thumbs-up. "Ten points."

"You're … really only earning five over that," Logan said, shaking his head.

"Naw, if it was dead center it'd be fifty, come on. I'm playing darts, not archery."

Logan chuckled and nodded as Kurt shoved his shoulder. "Fair enough."

Clint grinned and went back to his game of darts, leaving the adults to keep messing around with each other and relentlessly teasing each other. He couldn't help but smirk to himself at a lot of the teasing being tossed back and forth over not only the game but each other. Even if he wasn't so sure about these people, he could still appreciate their senses of humor. And boy, did they have them.

It went on like that for a little while until Clint heard the unmistakeable sort of  _pop-crack_ of a beer can opening, and he froze without even thinking about it, his gaze snapping to the two men still joking around with each other.

He was almost holding his breath when Logan, still smiling, looked over his shoulder at Clint, and for just a second, Clint watched him from where he was standing before he split, still holding onto the darts and clearly on the quickest path out — and to his mom's room.

Logan's smile fell in an instant, and he watched the spot where the kid had disappeared, thinking to himself about what exactly triggered the response. He looked around the room, trying to see what it was — or where it had come from — but he had a sinking suspicion brewing already. He thought about it for a long moment before he simply looked over to Jean. "You catch that, or was it pure reaction?"

She nodded slowly. "Pure reaction," she said, her smile gone as well.

"I'll give him some time before I dig into it," Logan decided.

"He's checking on his mom," Jean told him.

"Of course he is," Logan said, nodding as he tried to settle back into his seat, frowning and not really able to concentrate on the game.

Kurt dipped his head down to catch Logan's attention after he entirely missed teasing Kurt when his team missed a goal. " _Was is los_?"

"Dunno," Logan said. "But I've got an idea or two."

Kurt nodded, looking back to the game for a moment before he shook his head and got to his feet. "Play pool with me," he said. "There's no reason to watch a game you're not watching."

"Not much else I can do right now if he's going to react that  _strong_ , that fast. Just make it worse."

Kurt nodded and put a hand on Logan's shoulder before he simply teleported them both to the pool table. "In the meantime," he said, holding a cue out to his friend.

"Sure, I'll wipe the floor with you," Logan replied with a little smirk.

" _Lächerlich_."

Logan shrugged and got to his feet. "Money where your mouth is, Elf."

And while the two of them were talking smack back and forth, setting up for their pool game, Clint had found K and was very quietly trying to act like there was a solid reason that he had a handful of darts.

Clint twisted the red dart around a few times as he tried to come up with something to say. "I … was… practicing… my thievery… skills…"

"You  _know_ you can't lie to me," K said, giving him a raised eyebrow look. "Did you need someone to play with?"

"No," he said and set the darts down on the desk.

"Are you sure? Because when I miss, it's usually a  _spectacular_ miss." She gave him a little smile. "You know … like in the backside of whoever spooked you." She shrugged with both hands up. "Oops."

Clint couldn't help but smile at that and nodded lightly. "Yeah. Oops." He took a deep breath and let it out. "I'll ... I'll put 'em back tomorrow. It's ... there's too many people there."

"You sure? It's not any trouble to play a game or two."

Clint nodded. "Can we just stay here and maybe watch a movie instead?"

"Of course. Want me to grab the popcorn?"

"No," Clint said quickly. "No, it's okay, I got it," he promised before he rushed off to do just that, not leaving K with much time to ask him any other questions.

* * *

The next morning, Clint came down to grab some breakfast before his lessons with Jean and Storm, like he'd done for the past several days since he and K arrived there — but when he saw that Logan was already there and had coffee, he paused, not sure if Logan was the kind of guy who was meaner with a hangover or not.

"Mornin'," Logan said as he peeked up at Clint, then went right back to his paper.

"Hi," Clint said softly, padding around the outside of the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart — something he didn't have to eat at the table.

"Jeannie's settin' up to make pancakes if you're interested."

"I do like pancakes," he said with a small nod, pausing at the pantry before he put the Pop-Tart back.

"Then it's smart to grab 'em early before Bobby gets down here and ticks her off."

Clint nodded at that and stayed off to the side, waiting without a word until Jean and Scott arrived — and Jean gave him a warm smile when she saw him.

"Do you like chocolate chips in yours? I can make a few with chocolate or blueberries if you want," Jean offered as she started to pull out the supplies.

"Can I help?" Clint offered.

Jean nodded — even though it was clear with the various ingredients telekinetically flying to her that she didn't need a helping hand. "How are you at breaking eggs?

"I can do that," he said, seeming to relax once he was in the kitchen and not the dining room. It wasn't long before he was cheerfully working alongside Jean and even made it a point to serve a plate of pancakes to his mom when she came downstairs.

"Little chef," K said as she gave him a quick kiss on top of his head.

Clint grinned up at her. "Well, you make  _me_ pancakes all the time, so I thought it would be nice if I gave you some!"

"You're a darling young man," K agreed. "Thank you; they look wonderful." She quickly made her way over to grab a cup of coffee before she headed for the dining room. "Are you having some with me, or are you just going to play short order cook this morning?"

Clint glanced up at Jean, who gave him an encouraging smile, and he nodded happily, grabbing a plate full of pancakes for himself and climbing up into the seat next to K. "Storm found me some Hardy Boys books that I can work on reading," he told her. "They've got more chapters in 'em, but they're way more interesting than the kiddie books."

K nodded at that. "So, which one are you?" she asked. "Everyone has a favorite …"

"Well, I'm probably Joe, 'cause I'm blonde and a little brother," Clint said.

"That makes sense," K said.

"Do you got a favorite?"

"No, they both get into enough trouble for me."

Clint grinned at that and nodded. "Storm's helping me with my writing too, and — and ooh! Jean said that we can work on some multiplication stuff 'cause I did so good on adding and subtracting."

"That doesn't surprise me. They'll all be convinced you're a genius by the time you start geometry."

Clint giggled and shook his head. "You're just saying that because you want me to wipe the floor with everybody."

"Although that is true," K said, shaking her head slowly with one eye closed, "I don't really 'just say' much."

"Yeah, that's true," Clint had to admit. He smiled at her as he swirled his pancakes in the syrup on his plate. "I bet… I bet I could be Indiana Jones," he told her quietly. "You said I gotta go to college for that, so… I bet I could."

"You'll be better than that," K said, then switched to sign.  _You're Clint Barton. Who needs Indy?_

Clint grinned at that.  _I need a cool hat,_ he told her.

_And cover up those blond locks? No._

_You like my duck fluff way too much,_ he giggled.

"Not possible," she argued.

Clint grinned and leaned into her in a small snuggle as they finished up their breakfast, in a grand mood by the time he headed off to meet up with Storm and do some more reading.

"He's really amazing, you know," Jean said as she finally got to sit down by K with her own breakfast.

"Well-aware," K replied. "Thanks for letting him help. That's a big thing for him."

Jean smiled a little wider at that. "I love having him help," she said. "And I've been loving having him here …. teaching him math… all I hear from him is how amazing you are, too."

"He's biased. Don't listen to that nonsense."

Jean smiled and shook her head. "Really, he's amazing." She paused and then let her shoulders drop. "He's… a little skittish. None of us are trying to upset him."

"So am I. Skittish, that is."

"It's just that he's seven and innocent," Jean tried to explain. "And we're only trying to make him feel welcome."

K readjusted how she was seated and primly folded her hands at her knees as she straightened up slightly. "Where is it you think you're failing, exactly?"

"Well…" Jean glanced to Scott, who was unsuccessfully pretending not to be paying attention. "We're not entirely sure."

"You've dealt with traumatized people before, haven't you?"

"We usually know the trauma — and have an idea of the background."

"And even if the people you deal with aren't usually  _seven_ or  _innocent_ , do you always try to find and hit every trigger in their history before you wonder what might have gone wrong?"

Jean straightened up and narrowed her eyes. "That's not what we're doing. We're just trying to figure out why he's so happy and fun around some people and skittish around others."

"And if the kid isn't ready to talk and share, then you wait until he is," K said. "Or am I wrong?"

"That's why I'm asking you," Jean said, shaking her head.

"I'm not giving anything to people I don't trust myself," K replied. "Especially on him."

When Jean looked frustrated, Scott cleared his throat. "He's had a bad string of fosters," he said.

"Yes he did," K agreed.

"That's why Jean's asking you to help," Scott said. "It's pretty clear he's still dealing with that. The last thing we want is to scare him."

K hadn't blinked yet as she turned her focus to Scott. "So, who did what to scare him?"

"At first, we thought it might have been that Kurt asked about Barney, but Jean's talked with him about his brother and didn't get that reaction," Scott said. "He ran out when I tried to talk to him in the kitchen, and then there was last night with the darts."

"I offered to play a game with him, but he didn't want to be around the crowd," K said. "Connect some dots."

Scott nodded. "To be honest, we thought we had it figured out — back off of questions — until last night. He was fine with Jean and Kurt and Logan — he's usually fine with Jean."

"He loves his teachers," K said, trying to let them figure it out on their own.

"We're trying to give him more exposure to the rest of us so he can see we're not a threat; we're not going to separate you two."

"No, you're not," K agreed.

"And I know it's hard to trust someone when you can't look them in the eye, and we've had problems from others with Kurt's appearance—"

"It's not your eyes," K said. "And it's not his looks."

"He doesn't like men," Storm said, one eyebrow raised as she cut in, looking almost disappointed at the revelation.

"Of course, it was a woman that figured it out," K said, gesturing to Storm.

Scott leaned back and let out a breath. "That's not… something we can change."

"Not with an attitude like that, it's not."

Storm shook her head with a little smile. "Still, that's something we can get past. Trust can still be earned." She smirked Logan's way for a second and then Jean's. "This is why Jean and I are always saying we need more women on the team."

"Oh, you mean someone that can point out that just because they're guys, they're not infallible? Yeah. You need more of that." K was perfectly dry in her delivery.

"As I said — more women," Storm laughed.

"Well good luck with that," K said before she turned the focus back to Clint. "He's got solid reason not to trust men. So … your testosterone squad isn't going to get too far."

"Then it's a good thing he has us for teachers," Jean said. She gave K a warm smile — relaxed more now that there was an explanation she could wrap her head around. "I meant what I said; he's really amazing. I love teaching him."

"Good," K replied. "Is there anything else you wanted to try to be sly about asking me? It's a lot quicker if you cut the crap and just say what's on your mind."

Jean frowned at that but let out a breath. "Just that I hope you'll consider staying ... or at least… consider not acting like we're the enemy. It's hard to earn Clint's trust when his mother treats us like we're supervillains."

"I don't know what you are," K replied.

"And we don't know much about you. But if we  _try_  to build up some mutual respect instead of treating each other like enemies, don't you think that's better if we want to trust each other?"

"Still not sure I want to," K said. She put her hands on the table, palms down, and pushed herself to her feet. "Now … I'm sure that it's just a matter of time before your big guns decides I need to spend another five or six hours getting my brain picked. So I'm going to step outside while I can."

Jean let out a sigh as K left, leaning back against Scott and looking frustrated. "Well that went well."

"Tell Charlie to back off," Logan said. "She just told you it's really just tickin' her off. And if you want the kid to stick around …"

Jean looked his way and then sighed again. "I really do," she admitted. "I'll talk to him."


	7. Sweet Little Orphan Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Jean figures out something that might help at least one of the other X-Men bond with Clint, and it works exceedingly well.

 

* * *

Clint and K had only been at the institute for a couple weeks, but Clint was fast falling in love with his classes. He had never felt smart before — not when it came to  _school_ anyway, even if he felt smart when K would help him — but Jean and Storm had a way of making him feel like he… might actually… not be stupid.

And it was beyond obvious that Jean was in love with having a little boy around to shower with attention — so the math classes were a great meeting of the mutual admiration society.

They were part of the way through some multiplication problems when Clint glanced up at Jean and gave her a shy smile. "Thanks," he said.

"For what?" Jean asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, you haven't been asking lotsa questions, and everybody's kinda backed off, so… thanks for talking to 'em," Clint said, still with that same shy smile. "I know you did it."

Jean smiled at him lightly. "Actually, Scott talked to the team about backing off," she said, knowing that even if she  _had_ been part of that decision, giving Scott the credit would help a lot.

Clint didn't bother to hide his surprise as his eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Really," she said.

"Why… why would he do that?"

"Well," Jean said slowly. "For one thing, Scott lost his parents when he was just a little older than you. He spent a lot of time in an orphanage, so he's …. He knows about that stuff."

Clint looked even more wide-eyed. "I didn't know that," he said softly. It was more than obvious that he had lost a lot of his defensiveness, and Jean couldn't help but give herself a mental high-five, even if she kept her gentle smile and didn't give away her excitement.

"It's not the easiest thing for anyone to talk about," Jean replied.

Clint nodded. "Yeah… yeah, I know," he said. He glanced up at Jean for a moment and bit his lip. "Did he find someone like I found Mom?" he asked. "It's real hard to be in a place like that."

"Kind of," Jean said. "He ran away from there when he was sixteen. Eventually, he found the professor."

Clint looked far more interested as he leaned forward. "Really?" he almost breathed out. "That's… that's a lot like  _me_."

"Really," Jean told him with a soft sort of smile.

Clint thought about it for a long time before he nodded to himself. "So… so he wouldn't get me in trouble if he knew … someone who ran away too? If… if I did, that is."

"Absolutely not," Jean promised. "He knows what those places are like — and the one person that took him in before the professor was worse than the orphanage in a lot of ways."

Clint nodded. "Yeah… some people are mean," he said, watching Jean with an open expression. "I ran away from my foster dad — he was  _not_ nice," he added in a whisper. "I ran away from lots of 'em, actually."

"Sweet kid like you?" Jean said, gently reaching up to brush the loose hair out of his eyes. Even in the short time they had been together, Jean couldn't stop herself from those small expressions of affection. "Who would have a problem with you?"

Clint bit his lip and shrugged. "Well... I … I wasn't real smart or real polite or nothing like that," he said.

"Was this before or after they separated you from your brother?" Jean asked before she leaned in closer. "Because you know, Scott was separated from his little brother too."

Clint's eyes were wide. "I… Me and Barney fought back," he whispered. "That's how come we kept getting bounced around, and they said he was harder to place."

"Yeah, that's what Scott said," Jean agreed. "Older kids have a harder time. Siblings want to go together, but it doesn't always happen." She paused and tipped her head to the side. "I'm sure he'd tell you about it if you asked."

Clint thought about it for a long moment before he nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay, maybe I will," he said before he ducked his head and went back to his math problems.

* * *

Scott knew because of Jean's  _tickled_ commentary what she and Clint had been talking about — but he hadn't expected any immediate results. It was nice to know that Clint was starting to open up a little more and to know where he was coming from, of course. He'd suspected a lot of it, but it was good to have it confirmed — and it would explain why he said K had 'found' him if he was a runaway.

But he wasn't going to push, not when it was obvious that pushing was only making the two of them  _more_ wary. So when Clint came in with Sicem after playing outside for a while to grab something to drink — for Sicem as well, who went right to the water bowl — Scott was content to give Clint his space. He was keeping in mind what K had said about Clint's real fears, and he knew there was a lot to unpack, unlearn there. A tall guy that you couldn't look in the eye wasn't exactly an easy pick for trusting men, and Scott knew it.

So he absolutely wasn't expecting it when Clint sat down with his water bottle and his potato chips and looked up at him, clearly sizing him up before he nodded to himself. "Okay, so… what happened to your brother?" he asked, not even giving Scott any kind of preamble.

Scott blinked at Clint in obvious surprise before he smiled. "Alex? He's in Hawaii now."

"That's  _really_ far away," Clint said, looking almost upset at the thought. "There's a whole ocean in between you and him!"

"That's where he ended up getting adopted. It's home to him now," Scott explained with an almost imperceptible shrug.

"I can't imagine being that far away from  _my_ brother," Clint said earnestly.

"Neither could I when it happened," Scott agreed.

"I'm real sorry they split you up," Clint said. "That's how come me and Barney got split. I'm still little, so they said they could get me a home — but he's bigger and meaner sometimes."

"Well, see," Scott said, pausing for a moment. "We had an accident, and when I woke up from it, he was gone. So it was a little different."

Clint stared at Scott before he glanced over both shoulders and then leaned forward. "If you tell my mom who made you have an accident, she can make him have an accident too even if you're grown up now."

"This is entirely true," K said from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, getting both of them to look up at her unexpected appearance.

Clint smiled up at K from where he was sitting close to Scott. "Hi, Mom," he said. "Didja know that Scott had a little brother that got adopted in  _Hawaii_? That's real far, huh?"

"I did not," K said as she made her way over to the coffee pot. "And yeah, that's a very long swim."

"I'm not good enough at swimming to do that, so I'm real glad Barney didn't go there," Clint said, nodding seriously.

"I'm pretty sure you'd have to be half fish to do that one," K said, coming over to the table. She set down a cup of coffee for Scott and a mug of cocoa for Clint before pulling out a chair with her own mug.

Scott raised an eyebrow before he tipped his head K's way. "Thanks," he said, though he was even more surprised when he found it was prepared the way he liked it, too — she must have been paying attention.

"You're welcome," she replied, lifting her cup to her lips.

"Mom, guess what else," Clint said, tugging on her sleeve.

"I don't even know where to start," K admitted. "What?"

He leaned forward and signed the rest of it.  _Scott ran away too. Just like me!_

She raised an eyebrow at that.  _That is kind of surprising._

_Miss Jean said it was because the orphanage was not a nice place, so he ran away, and that's how he found Mr. Professor Xavier._

K nodded and looked over at Scott. "You two are bonding nicely."

Scott nodded and smiled lightly. "Clint's easy to like."

"And you both spent time with rude Midwesterners," she said. "It's because you were both too far into the plains. North is always better."

Scott raised an eyebrow and then smirked lightly. "I'm actually from Alaska," he said. "So I tend to agree."

She smiled at that. "Oh, good. Then you have to have a little sense."

"I like to think so," Scott said. He leaned back slightly and tipped his head her way. "What about you? Alaska too, or a little further south?"

"Close enough on the area codes," she said with a smirk. "Southern shore of Lake Superior."

"It's a  _real_ big lake," Clint put in helpfully. "You can't see the end of it! And it's  _cold_!"

Scott nodded and smiled Clint's way. "Yeah, we used to go diving into the lakes even when it was cold, just to prove we could do it. It drove my mom nuts."

"I had to wait to pull that crap until I was older," K said. "There was a little paranoia about the lake when I was home."

"Bad history or just being careful?"

"That's where my dad died," K replied easily. "Superior is a little unforgiving — and she doesn't give up her dead."

"Ah." Scott nodded quietly. "It took me a while to get back to flying too, yeah."

She waved a hand. "It was forever ago. The lake hasn't changed. It was a mistake on his part."

Scott simply nodded at that, not sure where to pick it up from there — though Clint seemed perfectly content to fill the silence. "So is that how you had an accident?" the little boy blurted out. "Like, a real one in an airplane not a thing that people call accidents but aren't really?"

"Yeah," Scott said before he cleared his throat. "That's how I lost my family."

Clint bit his lip and then leaned forward. "My dad crashed his car and killed my mom too," he said softly.

"Were you apart from your brother for a long time, Scott?" K asked, not looking his way, though she watched him out of the corner of her eyes.

"I didn't see him again until I was older," Scott said with a nod — though he had taken a moment before he did. "I was an X-Man by then."

"That's a shame," she replied in a much softer tone than he'd heard before.

Scott shrugged lightly and shook his head. "That's just how it happened," he said. "I'm just glad I know where he is."

Clint nodded seriously. "Yeah, I like knowing where my brother is too."

"We keep track of Barney pretty closely," K said.

"I'm glad to hear that," Scott said honestly. "I don't think brothers should be split up."

"Well,  _Barney_ wants to be a circus performer, but we make sure and see him plenty," Clint said. He grinned and leaned forward. "He's real good, and the ringmaster got him a much nicer teacher to teach him about swords and stuff, so next time we see him, he'll probably be running things."

"Probably," Scott said, unable to stop the smirk at Clint's perfectly matter-of-fact insistence. It was no wonder Jean liked the kid as much as she did.

"I know better than to try and make a kid stay when he's got a history of running away," K told Scott "He's got good people around him. That's about as good as I can manage … considering."

Scott gave her an honest smile at that. "That's great to hear, really. Knowing that they've both got someone who gets it — that would have meant a lot to any of us kids when I was growing up too. It's a big deal."

"Be the person you needed as a kid, right?" K replied.

Scott nodded. "Exactly. Try and make sure the future is brighter so they don't have to deal with what we did."

K nodded, though she didn't seem to have anything further to say on the subject. "Well, I've interrupted you two long enough. Enjoy your chat." She got to her feet and ruffled Clint's hair on her way to put her cup in the sink, leaving them alone without a backward glance — though Scott couldn't help but smirk to himself. After all, this was progress… and he knew Jean would be  _thrilled_ , too.

Clint grinned up at Scott as soon as K was gone. "Maybe next time you go see your brother, you can have a Christmas tree like we got. We put popcorn strings up — and Barney gets to spend  _weeks and weeks_ with us. It's pretty great!"

"That does sound great," Scott said with a nod, turning his attention back to the little boy.

"Yep. It's important to have your family," Clint said.

Scott couldn't help but agree, then leaned forward. "Everyone here — we all treat each other like family too. Not everyone has brothers or even parents to take care of them."

"Yeah, that's what Miss Storm said," Clint agreed. He tipped his head to the side as he considered Scott and then grinned. "You guys got a good setup here. I'm glad you got a family," he informed Scott. And just like that, he rushed off again to go play with Sicem now that they had both gotten a break and were well-hydrated — completely tossing aside the conversation once more so he could play fetch.

Which left Scott still feeling rather shocked before he smirked to himself. He got to his feet and reached out to Jean to find where she was — rushing more once he knew she was outside herself. And once he found her, he was sure to wrap her in a kiss.

 _You are brilliant,_ he told her.

_Yes. I am. What did I do now?_

_Telling Clint what you did_ —  _he walked right up to me and struck up a conversation, and K jumped right in…_ He grinned at her and projected out to her how it had gone down so that she could see for herself.  _With an outlook like hers, I'm surprised we haven't found her sooner._

_You know ferals are harder to pin down, Mr. Summers._

_I know,_ he said.  _But… thanks, Jean. Really._

_I saw a common ground you two could reach. I didn't know about her, though. But clearly, she's got some sneakiness we've missed if she's been into the personnel files like that._

_There's a lot we still don't know,_ he said, looking a bit more thoughtful.  _We still don't know exactly what she was trained for. That could be part of it._

 _I'm sure,_  Jean replied.  _So … work your magic, Mr. Summers._

 _I had a lot of help from you, Mrs. Summers,_ he pointed out with a smirk before he simply pulled her into another, much longer kiss.


	8. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some of the other X-Men are starting to break through Clint's defensiveness... but on the other hand, K is getting grilled about her powers.

 

* * *

The next day at breakfast, Scott was still in an excellent mood. He'd already gotten to cheer Kurt up tremendously letting him know that if he wanted to bond with Clint, he just had to mention that he'd grown up with the circus. And now, he was sure that he could at least talk to K and see if he could get an evaluation after the way she had seemed to open up a little more on seeing Clint and scott getting along.

And beyond that, Jean was right — she  _had_ been in the files, and they did need to know what she was capable of.

He waited until Clint had dashed off with Storm before he sat down beside K and gave her a small smile. "So," he said. "I was hoping to gauge a little better what it is that you can do. It's something we do with everyone —an evaluation of your powers, training… might help us know how we can help with the people after you, too."

She listened patiently to him as he spoke, and when he was finished, she shook her head lightly. "No thank you," she almost sang out.

"We're not asking you to join the team," he clarified. "It's an eval, not anything more."

"I know," she said in a very reasonable tone. "But that's kind of the fast route to a panic attack, and I'd rather not."

That did get Scott to pause, and his eyebrows were high as he considered it. "Don't like being watched?"

"That's part of it, sure," K replied. "But … I've seen the room you'd use. And I have to give you a hard no."

Scott shook his head. He could understand wanting to avoid a panic attack; he really could. But there were ways to work around that, he was sure. "It doesn't always look like that. We have hard light; if that's the problem, you can walk into a simulation instead of starting in the empty room."

K shook her head once more. "Scott, I'm sure it's very impressive, but the truth is, I don't tap into any of that unless I  _have to._ "

Scott frowned. "You don't have to hide it, you know. That's part of what we're doing here-"

"I know," she said, still keeping an even tone. "But I'm telling you: that's not a great idea. For me."

"We're just trying to learn more — how to help you, what you're dealing with from the department…"

"I'm pretty sure you already know," K replied. "They're hunting me, and I've been trying to make that hard on them."

"Yeah, we've dealt with that," Scott said with a nod. "But you have to admit — all that programming is easier to deal with when you have help, and it's easier to help with more information."

"Honestly, I've never really had any help," she countered. "If I don't use any of it, it feels further away."

"That's a recipe for disaster when you  _do_ use it," Scott pointed out.

"I don't have the same hangups, Scott," K replied frankly.

Scott let out a long sigh. "It's also easier for us if we know what you can do… to be honest, it's about security as well. I know you know how important that is; you did your research on us."

She tipped her head his way and frowned deeply for a long moment. "I don't know how long we'll be around. Let me at least think about it. That's … you don't know what kind of a problem that is."

Scott nodded. "That's fair," he said at last. After all, he wouldn't be able to get a decent evaluation if he forced her into a situation that would panic her that hard.

He still needed to get an evaluation, of course. He just had to figure out how to approach it. After all, as K had pointed out: the X-Men were supposed to be good at dealing with victims of trauma. And despite the focus on Clint, that applied to K as well.

He wanted to practice what he preached, after all.

* * *

While Scott knew that it had been a real victory to get K even considering the evaluation, the professor wanted him to keep trying. The professor wanted to see what she could do — and Logan wanted to see what kind of programming she was fighting.

"She's considering it," Scott pointed out when Logan brought it up again — after Charles had hammered home that they needed to test her. Again. "She was honest about the concerns — and after all the work Jean put in to win their trust…"

"Come on, Slim. At the rate we're goin', that's never gonna happen, and you know it," Logan argued. "Name one time you didn't push anyone else into an eval in the first few days."

"Right, because forcing her into anything is a better idea," Scott said dryly.

"She's got you trained up pretty quick, doesn't she?" he shot back.

Scott turned to glare at Logan. "The whole  _point_ ," he said, "is that we want her to trust us. And I'm  _not_ going to further traumatize a traumatized person. You know she was right — we're supposed to know how to deal with these situations."

"See … and I thought the whole point was to assess what kind of risk the woman carries," Logan said. "She's not going to trust anyone here anyhow." He shook his head, a plan already formulating. "If Weapon X is hunting her that hard, don't you want to know why?"

"No, Logan, I just like sitting back and living in ignorance," Scott said dryly.

Logan let out a little scoff. "We gotta bait her into it."

"She's not going to rise to any bait if she knows we're evaluating her."

"Not any you're laying out," Logan said dryly.

Scott just shook his head at that headed down the hall the opposite direction to catch up with Jean. He was tired of having this same argument, and besides that, he would rather catch up with Jean in a good mood after teaching Clint than deal with Logan.

* * *

Clint was once again outside with Sicem — playing fetch with a tennis ball — when there was a now-familiar  _bamf_  behind him. When he turned around, Kurt was hanging out of a tree upside down with a grin. "Hallo, young man."

"Hi, Kurt," Clint said, giving him a little wave as he wrestled the tennis ball away from Sicem.

"I won't waste your time … a little red-eyed bird told me that you had an interest in the circus." Kurt was grinning wider already. "And it just so happens … that I grew up in the circus."

Clint glanced up at him, his eyebrows high. "No kidding?"

"I was an acrobat," Kurt replied, gesturing grandly with one hand. "But I had a knack for many things, of course."

"My brother is training to be a weapons master," Clint said. He leaned forward a bit. "But he has a crush on an acrobat. It's real obvious."

"I'm not surprised," Kurt said in an almost aloof tone before he flipped out of the tree and landed into a deep bow. "It's unavoidable, really."

Clint smirked at that. "Yeah, I can tell you're an acrobat 'cause you're real showy."

"I am also the drama teacher here," Kurt laughed.

"Yeah, Kitty said you did that," Clint said. "So, how come you're not being an acrobat now? You look like you're real good."

"Because I've found that being a hero is much more fun," Kurt replied. "And I still get to perform amazing feats of daring and intrigue."

"I guess that's a good reason," Clint agreed. He tipped his head as he considered Kurt. "I was gonna run away to the circus, y'know. 'Cause that's what me and Barney decided to do."

"And you found a better fit with your lovely mother," Kurt said, nodding.

Clint nodded. "Yeah. She even helped me and Barney learn how to throw knives and shoot a bow and arrow!"

Kurt paused at that and smiled his way again. "Oh, did she? Was she a performer as well?"

Clint giggled. "No, she said she's not gonna wear a sparkly bathing suit," he said. "She just knows lots of stuff. Lots of  _cool_ stuff. She even got me some purple arrows 'cause they're my favorite color!"

"Perhaps she simply doesn't want to wear a sparkly bathing suit  _anymore_ ," Kurt teased.

Clint wrinkled up his nose. "Yeah, no," he said.

"You never know," Kurt said, shrugging. "It might be that she had a top hat — or a gypsy dress …"

"That's weird," Clint said, shaking his head. "No way."

"Ah, but did you ask her if she had?" Kurt was doing a fine job of not laughing. "You could have one of the great circus acts of all time teaching you how to get your dog to play dead."

Clint rolled his eyes at that. "Pretty sure you're wrong, but you can be wrong all by yourself and not drag me into it, okay?"

"I'm just having a bit of fun," Kurt laughed.

Clint shrugged, but he did shoot Kurt a little smile all the same. "Yeah, well… you're a circus guy. That's what you do — you have lots of fun. I always have fun when I go see my brother… well,  _now_ anyway. Now that his stupid ex-teacher is gone."

"Ah, bad teachers are rampant in the circus," Kurt agreed.

"He hit my brother," Clint said frankly.

Kurt paused. "We should probably find him and deal with him then," Kurt decided. "Where can I find this … person?"

Clint grinned, clearly catching Kurt's thought process. "My mom already beat you to it," he said. "He tried to threaten me and her  _and_ he beat up Barney, so she decided he needed to be dead."

Kurt's smile slipped away at that. "That sounds a bit like an overreaction."

Clint let out a dismissive sound. "Yeah, okay. You can think that. But you're wrong."

"I suppose it's not my place to pass judgement," Kurt replied almost serenely.

"He beat up Barney so bad he was hiding in his trailer and real laid up," Clint said, trying to impress upon Kurt how bad it had been — and exactly why his mom had done what she had.

Kurt let out a breath and leaned back, nodding slowly. "Then I certainly understand why your mother reacted as she did."

Clint nodded. "My mom's a hero. Maybe she ain't got a uniform like you guys do, but she saved me and Barney, and she looks out for people so… there."

"That sounds like a hero to me," Kurt agreed.

Clint nodded to himself and then smiled a little more when Sicem returned with the ball for him to throw again. He was quiet for a long moment before he glanced up at Kurt again. "Storm says you're real nice," he said.

"I do my best," Kurt replied gently.

"Okay, well… good, because… because I like the people here and I don't wanna live around mean people," Clint said.

"I believe you'll find no one here is mean," Kurt said. "A few are harder to get to know, but no one is mean."

"Except Mr. Professor Xavier. He wants to get in my mom's head," Clint said.

"He wants her to talk to him and tell him what she's been through," Kurt replied before he gave Clint a troublemaking smile. "And she's not the first one to tell him to get a new hobby either."

"Yeah? Who beat her?" Clint asked, honestly interested.

"Some of the students have been less than open," Kurt answered. "And a few of our friends that come and go …"

"I don't think I'd like someone in my head," Clint said. "Miss Jean has been real nice about not peeking — even though I  _know_ she could."

"They try not to," Kurt said. "Though I'm sure it's very hard for them to keep to themselves."

"I think she peeks sometimes on accident, because sometimes she responds to things I ain't said yet," Clint said with a troublemaking smile.

Kurt let out a solid laugh. "Yes. She absolutely does and doesn't realize she's doing it at all."

"Yeah, and she talks to Scott  _all the time_ in her head. I can tell 'cause Mom told me how to tell when people are talking in their heads and their expressions change."

"Your mom knows a  _lot_ ," Kurt said, a little surprised at that.

"She's real smart," Clint said.

Kurt was still smiling at him as they headed toward the house. "I think we can find something to snack on inside — and then perhaps I can show you how to do a backflip."

Clint's jaw dropped as he spun to face Kurt. "Would you  _please_?" he blurted out.

Kurt couldn't help but grin wider at that. "Of course! It would be an honor." To accent it, he finished with another deep, sweeping bow before he teleported to Clint's other side.

Clint couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, but I can't do that thing with the smoke so you have to teach me  _normal_."

"Oh, I suppose I can keep it  _normal_ ," Kurt teased.

"I don't think you can," Clint said, one hand on his hip. "I think you're too dramatic and an  _acrobat_  and you can't not show off."

Kurt paused and tipped his chin up, drawing himself to his full height. "That … is entirely accurate." He broke until a grin and dropped the dramatic look. "But … I can still teach you how to backflip."

"Good, 'cause I wanna learn how to do that and then I can show Barney," Clint said with a grin. "He'll be real impressed."

"Then let's impress him," Kurt agreed.

* * *

In the meantime, Logan had started up on his plan to try to get K to fight. She'd refused and shot down every single request for an evaluation, spar, game — anything that would even remotely make it sound like they wanted her to show off what she knew was met with a kind but flat 'no'.

So he tried a different angle — and this one was mercifully far outside of the reaches of the Danger Room, so the rules were a little bit different. She knew she wasn't being recorded and watched when Logan followed her on her way out toward the woods, playfully goading her until it was clear that just wasn't going to cut it.

But then he finally hit paydirt. "How are you going to keep them from coming after you unless you tell us what the hell it is that they want you for?" Logan had said in an easy, relaxed tone that got her to stop dead in her tracks and turn his way with a glare.

"You don't wanna know," K told him and turned to keep walking, determined to avoid him.

He tried another track: "Next time they catch up to you, you know that kid's a goner, right? You made a connection with someone. They won't let that stand."

She growled low in an unintentional warning as she spun on her heel to face him. "Back off. Or I'll show you," she warned.

But that only got a smirk out of him and he rushed a few quick steps to catch up to her. "Somehow, I doubt it."

In a flash, she'd landed her first hit, and instead of the crunch of bone that Logan was used to hearing when someone sucker punched him, it was a solid hit — quickly followed up with a knee to his stomach and an elbow to the back of his head. She swept his feet out from under him and stopped as she crouched over him — one arm drawn back in a manner that had Logan looking up at her in confusion.

She didn't have any weapons that he could see, but she was moving as if she was going to take his head off. Her lip curled back in a snarl, and she punched him hard in the throat. "You asked," she said, still growling, before she jumped back from him and took off into the trees.

In a moment, he was on his feet — ticked off and ready to clear the air with her. But she was faster than he was, so it took a little while before he finally caught up. When he did, she turned to meet him, and the fight started in earnest.

She wasn't anywhere near as strong as he was, but her hits were heavy. Heavier than they should have been. And she wasn't playing fair at all. He, on the other hand, tried to be nice about it — as nice as he could be — but after the second time she managed to land a  _solid_ groin shot, he'd had enough.

With a growl of his own, he started to bring up his 'A' game. She held him back well enough, though he was backing her up with every blow. When she tried to dodge one of his strikes, he grabbed a hold of her wrist on the counter move, and in an instant, he had her wrapped up in a pin that she couldn't even move more than to breathe in.

She pulled to get an arm back, but he wasn't letting her budge as he took a moment to catch his breath. "Stop it."

"Let. Me. Go."

"Not until you cool off," Logan replied, not bothered at all when she still tried to struggle her way out of his grip.

It wasn't until a solid ten minutes later that he even considered letting her up, and the instant that he did, she cracked him a solid one across the face, looking totally thunderous, before she met his gaze and darted off again at a dead run.

* * *

Clint was in a good mood as he made his way to the kitchen so he could sneak something to eat — he was still getting used to the fact that there was  _so much_ food and that it was there  _all the time_. He had finished his Hardy Boys book, and he was getting faster at reading with Storm, and that was a huge deal to him. He had done it  _himself_. A whole book. And he was starting another one tomorrow!

But he paused when he heard one of the older students, Kitty, talking about Logan and K's fight.

"She took him  _down_ ," Kitty whispered to a wide-eyed Kurt. "I mean  _down_."

Clint couldn't help but grin as he leaned in a little closer to listen in, sure that it was going to be a tale of how his mom had wiped the floor with someone.

Kurt was shaking his head. "You must have seen wrong."

"No, really. They were down near the lake when it happened, and I watched it with the rest of Scott's class out the window," Kitty said, her own eyes wide before she broke into a grin. "I mean, of course Logan gave it back and took her down, but you should have seen it, Kurt. She can  _fight_."

"Someone to give our friend a run for his money," Kurt said. He was smiling thoughtfully, though when Clint accidentally dropped the bag of potato chips he had snuck from the pantry, he looked up and smiled warmly Clint's way. "Hello, Clint."

Clint quickly snatched up the bag of chips. "Hi," he said.

"Have you been enjoying your lessons with Storm?" Kurt asked.

"Uh-huh," Clint said. He looked around the room. "I… umm. Where … have you seen my mom? I wanted to talk to her."

Kitty and Kurt glanced at each other. "Last I saw her, she was talking with Professor X," Kitty explained.

Clint nodded and didn't hesitate to take off running down the hall until he got to Charles' office and didn't knock before he simply barged in — and then all but screeched to a halt. Not only was  _Logan_ there too but neither of them  _looked_ like they'd been fighting — though that didn't mean they hadn't been, and he knew it.

K lifted an arm to invite him over to her, and he didn't hesitate to rush over and wrap his arms around her and hold on. "You okay?" K asked.

Clint looked up at her carefully.  _You hurt?_ he signed out.

She shook her head lightly and gave him a little squeeze.

 _I don't want to stay here,_ he signed and then hugged her.

 _I think we have to for a while,_  she signed back.

 _Why?_ he asked, wide-eyed.

She drew in a deep breath and tried to find a way to explain it easily.  _To keep worse things from happening._

 _I won't let him follow us,_ Clint signed back.

She shook her head.  _No. To protect them_ —  _and him._

 _You don't have to protect him or anybody,_ Clint said.

 _You don't want them to get a hold of him._  She gave him a little kiss and a smile.

Clint let out a little sigh and hugged her. "Okay, but if he touches you again, I'm gonna stick him with my knife," he whispered.

She gave him a crooked smile. "I already slapped the taste out of his mouth."

"Good," he said, latching on a little harder underneath her arm.

"Logan, if you wouldn't mind," Charles said softly. It was obvious, after all, that there was no way he could talk to either of the newcomers at the moment. All of the X-Men had seen the extremely protective relationship in play, and with Clint as upset as he was, there was no way to get through to them until the situation calmed down a bit.

Logan glanced up at Charles for a moment, then looked over to Clint and to K, who was pointedly not looking his way, before he let out a breath, nodded and left the office without another word.

It didn't escape Charles' notice that Clint had visibly relaxed when Logan left the room, and he knew he had to step in before the distrust solidified any further. "Clint," he said quietly, "you know that Logan wasn't trying to hurt your mother, don't you? He was only practicing, the same way our team trains in the Danger Room and fight each other to get better."

"It's true," K said gently. "He was doing his best to keep me from beating him into the dirt."

"Kitty said he beat you," Clint said without moving even an inch away from her.

K gave him a little smile. "He stopped me. But he didn't hit me."

Clint watched K for a moment and then bit his lip. "Okay," he said slowly. "But … but I don't like it."

"Clint, it's fine, I promise. And not like 'it's fine until I crack him one' … it's really fine."

Clint let his shoulders drop as he watched her closely. "If you're sure…"

"I'm sure, and I'm calm," K replied.

"And if you change your mind?"

"Then we're gone," she promised.

Clint relaxed substantially at that and then straightened up. "Well… well, good, because I'm gonna start another Hardy Boys book tomorrow, and I kinda like it here."

"We'll stay as long as it works for everyone," K said.

Clint nodded and snuggled into her side for a moment and then kissed her cheek before he dashed off again.


	9. Clint Absolutely Does Not Approve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan is showing a little more interest in K, and Clint is absolutely not happy with anyone making moves on his mom.

**Notes: Oh, yeah. You know when Scott disagrees with Charles on anything, that is a HUGE deal, so I hope one day K will hear about how this went dwn so she can realize just how much these guys like her ;)**

**And I must like protective lil duck fluff too, because... this next chapter is PURE DUCK FLUFF.**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Clint Absolutely Does Not Approve**

"I'm not wearing that thing," K said flatly when Jean tried to suggest a training uniform for the spar she'd finally conceded to doing.

"Everyone has one—"

"I'm not everyone else," K argued. "It smells. No."

"No matter how much you like yellow," Clint teased in a whisper from around Jean's side.

"Not helpful, duck fluff."

"I'm not a duck," Clint said, sticking his tongue out at her.

"Coulda fooled me," K said as she reached over and messed up his hair.

"Everybody likes my hair," Clint grumbled.

"Because you're adorable," K said before she turned toward Jean. "What's wrong with my jeans? honestly."

"Honestly, it's a way to keep from destroying our everyday clothes — the uniforms are sturdier."

"I'm not that attached," she said.

Clint tugged on Jean's arm to get her to crouch down to his level. "You can go shopping with her," he whispered, which had Jean laughing as she finally shook her head and waved her hand K's way.

"Alright, wear what you like," she said — as Clint gave K a thumbs up behind Jean's back.

"How does this work here?" K asked as they headed down toward the room.

"We just want to see what happens when you're actually prepared for a fight and it's not a reaction," Scott said when they got there. "Don't worry; I set up the sim myself."

"That doesn't do me a whole lot of good," she said under her breath.

Scott tipped his head toward the door. "Go ahead," he said. "You said you didn't want an empty room, so…"

She looked up at him and simply held his gaze for a long moment. "I'm trusting you."

"I'm pretty sure you won't be disappointed," he promised.

K was clearly wary as she finally turned toward the door and opened it up, only to frown at the scene inside. "What the actual hell?"

Scott smirked, tipping his head at the Alaskan sky — complete with Northern Lights. "It's an old stomping ground of mine."

"Anchorage?"

"Yeah — have you been?"

"Once or twice," she said, nodding before she blew out her breath. "Okay. I'll try it."

"Good luck," Jean said warmly as she and Scott took Clint up to the booth to watch — since he had insisted on being there to make sure his mom was  _really_ okay.

K took a moment to take stock of the surroundings, her arms wrapped around herself as she did so. It was a typical open area, with a few trees indicating that they were supposed to be somewhat near the tree line or at the very least a clear-cut section.

She tried to see if there was anything under the snow, but it was of course just deep enough that most of the obstacles were fairly well hidden. "How do you want this to even start?" K called up to the booth.

"Logan's ready for a good spar. Find him — and this time, I think Clint would like to see you win," Scott said with a lightly teasing tone.

She let her shoulders drop as she looked up at him. "In case you missed it — I let him walk."

"Don't let him do that this time," Scott said — though K could clearly hear Clint giggling too.

K closed her eyes for a second and shook her head, but unlike everyone else that had to try to play hide and seek with Logan, K didn't have to mess around with the preliminaries. Instead of a nervous, cautious walk wandering through the sim, she blinked twice, turned her head, and broke into a run, silently disappearing into the woods and circling around to attack from behind. Much easier when she was working with a scent instead of hide and seek.

Logan had of course been watching for her, but she'd been quiet enough to get  _close_ before he heard her. The fight started with a flying tackle that would have been a lot nastier if either of them had been using claws.

Scott simply hadn't expected her to manage a decent tackle like that — particularly since there were several members of the team taller and broader than K that had trouble managing anything close to it. The punches she landed were hard, and didn't seem to slow her down, which had both Jean and Scott leaning a little closer to the glass.

 _Didn't Remy break his hand doing that a few weeks ago?_  Jean asked as Logan dodged a punch and returned the tackle, taking her down into the snow.

 _There has to be something else going on there,_ Scott agreed.  _Even with the healing, that should still break…_

The snow was flying, though what had looked like a serious fight went dirty fast when K whipped a snowball in his face that blinded him and followed it up by knocking his feet out from under him before she took off — making him go on the offensive.

It only took a few moments before he shook it off and darted after her — but the usual growls and snarls he usually pulled out to screw with his sparring partner just weren't happening. It looked for a moment like he was going to manage to pull off the same attack she'd used to start it, but as he lunged around the corner, she tackled him from behind, and it turned into a more straightforward, all-out wrestling match.

He couldn't get a solid hold on her, and she couldn't  _keep_ him down once she managed what should have been a good one.

"Alright, that's good," Scott called down from the booth.

Logan stopped a moment after that, but K whipped another snowball at him, plastering the side of his head. "It slipped," she said with a little smirk, and Logan turned her way slowly with a disbelieving look on his face.

And the snowball fight started up.

"Can I come down and play?" Clint asked, blinking up at Clint with eyes as wide as he could make them and with a crooked sort of smile firmly in place. "I wanna throw snowballs too."

"Sure, we can leave the sim up," Jean said with a smile.

"Great!" Clint said before he took off running to get down to the Danger Room, with Jean behind him helping him to announce his arrival in the fight by dumping a tree full of snow on Logan's head as the two of them arrived.

"Ha! Whitewashing! Yes!" K called, only giving him enough time to get the snow out of his eyes before plastering him with another snowball. "Come on, Clint — score some points!"

The little battle got intense — to the point that Logan was very clearly outnumbered and losing. Clint had started laughing at the two women doing a full on attack until, finally, Logan had enough and he made his way over to scoop up K around the waist. "Alright that's enough," he said. "Call 'em off."

"Clint — take 'im down," K said as seriously as she could.

Clint grinned as he crouched down to pack his snowball and then took aim. Even though Logan was hiding behind K… he could still see a shot. And then he let out a whoop when he nailed Logan in the side of the head. "Ha! Didja see that?"

"Damn," Logan said, taking a step back and shaking his head hard as K darted over to high-five Clint. "Hell of an arm."

"And I can throw knives too!" Clint said happily.

"Playing with knives with Logan?" Jean teased, grinning Logan's way. "He's not too worried."

"Oooh, yeah, Mom says that's a stupid idea with her too," Clint said, nodding seriously.

Logan paused as he thought about the fight in the woods — and it was clear the moment he figured it out. "Holy crap. That would explain a lot."

Clint smirked at Logan, completely misunderstanding the expression on Logan's face. "Yep. She can take people down!"

"She sure can," Logan said, shaking his head at that.

"Well. If you're ready to concede, then I guess it's time to get into dry clothes," K said, shaking the snow off. "What do you say, handsome? Cocoa?"

"Yes, please. With marshmallows," Clint said, nodding quickly and all but skipping out the door with her.

But the X-Men remaining only waited a few moments before they had to address the spar — and the revelations that had come from it.

"Alright. Thoughts?" Logan said to Jean, though he looked up toward Scott too. "Tell me you at least suspected something like that." When they both looked like they weren't entirely sure, Logan let out a frustrated sort of noise and met Jean's gaze before he focused on projecting to her the first fight they'd had in the woods — and the way that K had paused, as if she was armed and holding back.

Jean's eyebrows rose at what she saw, and she glanced up at Scott. "When she didn't break her hand hitting you… we had to at least suspect."

"She was just playin' around today too," Logan said. "Nothing serious in front of the kid."

"That was part of the test, really — see how controlled she can be," Scott admitted. "She is definitely holding back."

Logan gave him an entirely unamused look. "Thanks for the warning."

Scott didn't look the least bit perturbed. "Clint really wanted to see you go down in the snow."

"You're a pain."

"Yeah, and it got Clint to relax around you a little more."

Logan held the dry expression for a long moment before he shook his head with a grumble and started toward the door. "Right."

Scott shook his head at that as he headed down to meet up with Jean, though with the microphone turned off, Logan didn't hear the muttered, "Yeah, you're welcome," he said under his breath.

* * *

The institute was still pretty quiet when Clint came downstairs to make himself some breakfast. The team had gone out to do some superhero stuff, and Clint knew that they had gotten home late because he had woken up a little bit when they were clomping around the hallways, but he'd gone back to sleep no problem. So, even though he was going through a growth spurt again, he  _still_ woke up before them.

They must've been  _really_ tired.

So he was surprised when he got downstairs that Logan was there… and he was sitting with K sharing coffee and smirks that Clint wasn't so sure about, because he knew what those looks meant.

Clint closed one eye as he considered Logan, arms crossed, and tipped his chin up. "How come you're not sleeping like the rest of the costumed crusaders or whatever you guys call yourselves?" he asked.

"I was with the Avengers last night," Logan said. "Missed the party apparently."

"Miss Jean said they were gonna go help someone who was getting bullied," Clint said. He watched Logan for a moment until his curiosity overrode the distrust he had for Logan. "What'd you do with the Avengers? Was it fun? Did you do stuff with Iron Man?"

"I was with Cap, hunting down Hydra," Logan said. "Stark was doing something for the company, I think."

Clint shrugged at that. "Okay, well… I wanna meet him one day," he said. "I saw him flying one time and it was  _really_ cool. Is he cool?"

"He has his moments," Logan said as diplomatically as he could.

Clint nodded. "Yeah, I bet he's cool. And — and —  _and_  — I wanna meet Wasp because she can fly too and I think she's probably nicer than the other people on the team and I wanna ask her how come she's so small and how her wings work and stuff."

Logan shook his head at that and got to his feet. "Hungry yet?" he asked, making his way to the kitchen.

Clint nodded. "I'm gonna get some cereal… I guess I can get you some too if you want it?"

"I'm makin' omelets," Logan said. "All the cereal's sugared up."

"Yeah, I like it," Clint said. "What about you, Mom? You want me to get you some cereal?"

"I'm gonna see how the chef here handles himself," K replied.

Clint raised his eyebrows Logan's way and then smirked at his mom. "Oh, I get it. Are you gonna steal it if it's good?"

"Doesn't have to. I told her I'd make her one. You can have one too," Logan called out. "Pick what you want."

Clint stopped where he was and stared at Logan. "You're… why?"

"Better than cereal," he said.

"Okay, but… but that's for you," Clint said. "And … and I know you're tryna be nice to my mom …"

"Everyone cooks now and again here, kiddo," Logan said as he got started. "It's not a big deal."

Clint watched Logan for a long time and then shrugged. "Okay… well… I really just like cheese and ham…"

"Grab it," Logan told him, tipping his chin up. "Won't take long."

Clint nodded and headed to the fridge, grabbing what he wanted before he pulled up a chair to stand on so he could see what Logan was doing, watching with a little frown. "My mom ain't easy," he blurted out suddenly.

Logan turned his head to look at him for a moment. "Didn't say she was."

"Yeah. Yeah, but… but you look at her and I know what it means when people look at her like that and she ain't gonna let you get lucky just 'cause you made breakfast," Clint said, still with his arms crossed and talking faster as he went on.

"Good," Logan said with a little nod.

Clint frowned at Logan, not expecting the easy reply. "Okay. Well… well good," he said.

Logan didn't say another word as he finished up the first omelet and slipped it onto Clint's plate. "Anything else on your mind?"

Clint tipped his chin up slightly and watched Logan. "Just… if you try anything, then she's gonna hit you, so… there."

"She already hit me," Logan said. "And I didn't try anything."

"Yeah, but you wanna. You look at her like those stupid guys at the rodeo."

"What rodeo?" Logan asked, already working up the next omelet. "Maybe I need to crack one of 'em in the face."

Clint parked himself on the counter with his plate. "She totally beat 'em, and they're sore for losing to a girl," he said. "Which is dumb because they like girls fine when they're just  _looking_."

"Too bad for them," he said.

Clint nodded before he continued — still talking in the same sort of rush, with words tumbling out as fast as he could say them. "I dunno why you're looking at my mom now 'cause you were sorta staying away before, and I'm just telling you if you hurt her, I'm gonna put my pocketknife in the back of your knee, okay?"

"Got it," Logan agreed. "And I'm not plannin' on hurtin' anyone. I'm just makin' breakfast."

"Uh-huh," Clint said, sticking a forkful of eggs in his mouth. "She's  _my_ mom."

"I know," Logan said, though he didn't slow down as he finished up his cooking. "You comin' or what?"

Clint narrowed his eyes at Logan for a moment before he nodded and hopped down with his plate, heading to the dining room, though he did mutter a little 'thank you' — because K  _did_ teach him manners, after all.

"What's the verdict, sweetheart?" K asked as Clint sat down.

"He can cook eggs pretty good," Clint admitted as he climbed into the seat beside her.

"That's good to know," she said, sure to pull him over to kiss the side of his head. "That's already a step ahead of Iceman then, huh?"

He couldn't help but grin at that. "Iceman starts a lot of smoke for a guy made of ice," he said.

"I know," she agreed, settling in with her breakfast and coffee. "You'd think it would be impossible for a guy that handles ice to burn water."

"Maybe he forgot how to deal with fire?" Clint offered

"More like he just wants to order out," Logan said as he sat down as well.

"I  _do_ like pizza," Clint admitted.

"Just about everyone does, but you can't live on it," Logan said before he grabbed both his and K's coffee mugs and headed off to refill them.

Clint waited until Logan was in the next room before he leaned forward, his expression totally serious. "Mom…"

"Yeah?" K said, turning his way.

"You know he's trynta get in good with you, right?" he whispered.

"I caught something like that, yeah," she assured him.

"Okay, as long as you know," Clint said, leaning back in his seat a little.

"I'm more interested in what his intentions would be. I don't think this one is like your brother's old idiot."

Clint tipped his head to the side as he considered her. "Yeah… I guess 'cause he's an Avenger he's not  _that_ much of a pain," he had to agree. "But Jacques was  _real_ stupid. That's not really fair to compare to a  _really_ big idiot like that."

K took a moment to run a hand over his hair and rested her hand at his shoulder. "I know it's hard to believe, but I've seen a few guys over the years. Not everyone is a creep, and not all guys that  _look_ are going to even try to go anywhere. Okay?"

"If you say so," Clint muttered.

"What? Are you worried?" she asked, bumping his shoulder lightly. "Do I need a protective guard?"

Clint shook his head and then bit his lip. "I just… I just wanna look out for you," he said.

"And you do a better job than anyone I've ever known," K promised before she switched over to sign.  _I don't know that he's doing much more than the others would. I think this is just 'nice'._

 _I just know what it means when guys look like that,_ Clint said.

_LIke what? The hair? Is it the hair? What does that mean?_

Clint giggled at that.  _I mean when they look at YOU like that. Like they want to look longer but they don't want to get in trouble for looking longer._

K nodded at that.  _General rule of thumb is that it's nothing to be concerned with unless they aren't worried about getting in trouble for looking._

_Yeah, but I told him what's what, and I don't think he IS worried._

She frowned at that.  _Weird. Must like getting his butt kicked._

Clint couldn't help but giggle.  _Must be._

She ran a hand through his hair again and then pulled him into a one-armed hug. "Is your breakfast acceptable at least?"

He nodded. "I… I actually really like it," he whispered.

"He can cook," K agreed, nodding. "That's good. Means he doesn't expect a girl to do it for him."

"Okay… that's true," Clint admitted.

"And he didn't slow down in asking if you wanted some ... so … can't be a total jerk, right?"

Clint turned slowly to face her better. "Are you… are you  _interested_?" he blurted out.

"I don't know yet," she said. She gave him a reassuring smile and rested her hand on his arm. "But it's not a total 'nope' like it was for the ones you've seen so far."

Clint stared at her. "But… I don't…" He bit his lip and looked down at his hands he didn't know how to tell her that he didn't want her to date, that he didn't want to  _share_  her, that he didn't want to lose her. He didn't know how to say any of that without making her mad, because she had her own life before she met Clint, and he didn't want her to not be happy...

"We're going to shoot this afternoon, right?" K asked, breaking into his thoughts with a smile.

Clint nodded. "Yeah, we gotta practice," he said, seizing on the new subject happily. "That's real important or you lose what you learned! That's what Miranda and Barney say."

"Yep. And as far as I know, it's just you and me. Unless you invited someone else …" K shrugged. "And if you did, then I will be forced to invite someone too."

"I didn't invite anyone," Clint said quickly. "Archery practice isn't a  _date_."

"I'm pretty sure Storm doesn't want to kiss me," K replied in a drawl as she smirked at him.

He paused and then smirked right back at her. "Actually, I think it would be cool to have my teachers see me shoot," he admitted. "Storm and Jean both think it's neat I know archery."

"Mmmhmm. Just want to have all the pretty women to yourself," K teased.

Clint rolled his eyes. "I'm  _not_ a lady killer. Stop trying to tell people that!"

"But it's the truth," she argued. "I mean … I'm your mom, so that doesn't count, but still …"

"I don't think you should count Miss Jean either, 'cause I'm pretty sure she just likes  _kids_ , not just me," Clint pointed out.

"No, no … she likes you," K said, nodding seriously as Logan returned with the coffee. "You're just that charming, lady killer."

"Mo-o-o-o-om."

"It's true, and you know it," she laughed, pausing only for a moment to thank Logan for the refill.

Clint shook his head at K as he hopped down from his seat, taking his plate with him so he could clean up. "You're weird"

"Yet you still picked me," she replied.

"Yeah, 'cause I like you anyway," Clint said with a smile, sure to give K a kiss on the cheek before he headed to the kitchen with his plate — fully intending to go find Sicem and spend the day at the lake.

"You goin' to the lake too?" Logan asked over K's shoulder as soon as the door closed behind Clint, leaving the two of them alone for a moment.

"Why? You want me to go?"

Logan shook his head at that. "Nope. Just figured if you weren't busy, I might borrow you for a minute or two."

K tipped her chin up at him. "You'll need to come up with a better offer than 'a minute or two'."

He smirked and stepped up a little closer. "I'd like to get you outta here for a while, if you want the truth."

She paused and turned his way, openly giving him a once-over. "Is that something that you could arrange with everyone making sure I'm on lockdown for my own safety?"

Logan smirked and leaned a little closer, though he didn't reach for her. "I can figure something out."

"What makes you think that this isn't exactly how I'd take you down?"

"I'll take my chances," Logan replied, looking entirely too full of himself.

K thought about it for just a few moments. "Alright. Gimmie a few minutes to get changed."

"Take your time. I'll be in the garage," Logan said before he flashed her an honest smile and watched her head toward the stairs.


	10. Kiddie Protection Services

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan sits Clint down to let him know that a lot of his fears are unfounded and Clint lets his mom (and Logan) know how it's gonna be.

 

* * *

 

Clint peeked around the corner to double-check, but yes, that was his mom, and that was Logan she was kissing, and he couldn't help but freak out when he saw it.

He didn't mind that they were in a school with Logan, but now — now that was his mom getting close to someone who could actually  _hurt_ her….

But he couldn't leave her, either. He didn't trust Logan at all, and he wasn't going to let his mom be alone with the guy when clearly, she had gone  _completely nuts_. So, he stayed slightly behind the wall, watching warily until the kiss ended — not interrupting, necessarily, but there. Just in case.

"I think we've been busted," K said quietly, though she didn't turn her head.

"Lil' bit," Logan agreed before he raised his voice a little. "Think your boy'd want to grab a bite outside of the mansion — since Bobby's cookin' tonight?"

She tipped her head to the side and glanced over her shoulder to where they both knew Clint was hiding. "I think … we'll grab a bite just the two of us. I'll catch you later." With that, Logan stole another, much quicker kiss and simply headed off as if nothing had happened.

"Okay. I know you're there, Clint."

Clint poked his head around the corner and then shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. "Hi."

"You hate him, don't you?"

Clint paused for a moment before he nodded slowly. "We should just go," he said.

She gave him a little smile. "I am not running from this place yet," she said. "Has he done something to tick you off that I should rearrange his face for?"

Once more, Clint paused for a long time and then bit his lip and shook his head. "Not  _yet_ ," he said slowly. "But… but he  _will_."

"I don't think so," she said, tipping her head a little further. "But if I'm wrong, I'll be the first to admit it."

"But…" Clint shook his head and looked down at his hands. "But you won't see it," he said quietly.

She pulled him over to wrap her arms around him properly. "What won't I see?"

"You'll just stay and stay and stay until he hurts you," he muttered into her hug.

She let out a little breath then gave him a squeeze before she tipped her head for him to go with her to her room. "That's not going to happen," she promised. "And let me tell you why." K gave him a little smile that looked a little too serious. "The bad guys chasing me down? They won't come here. Not from what I've been told." She gave him another smile that looked a lot warmer. "Mostly because they don't want to rile Logan or his friends."

"So you want to stay with the guy the bad guys are scared of," Clint said, his eyes wide. " _Mom_."

She tipped her head again. "What I didn't ever tell you was  _why_ those bad guys are after me."

"Okay," Clint said slowly. "Why?"

She leaned a little closer and met his gaze. "Because I was trained to kill him."

Clint stared at her, his eyes wide. "But… you… you're kissing him now."

"I didn't say  _I_  wanted to kill him," she said with a little smile. "Just that I know how. And … he knows I can too."

"But he can hurt you too," Clint said after a long moment.

She nodded. "He could, but he won't."

"You don't know that!"

"I know some of your old fosters did you wrong, and I know that you have every reason in the world to be cautious, but I promise you — on everything I can promise on — if he hurts me, he'll never be able to find the trail when I go."

Clint watched her for a long time to make sure that he believed her before he nodded, and then he wrapped her up in a long, long hug.

"And … if he raises a hand to you, I'll kill him."

At that, Clint tightened the hug and nodded. "Thanks, Mom."

* * *

As summer got into full swing, it was common to see the students who lived at the institute and didn't have a place to go home out on the lawn playing whatever sport came to mind. Lately, there had been some good football matches, though at the moment, the adults were watching baseball.

It wasn't even the start of the second inning by the time Kurt was in tears laughing at some of K's digs, and to Clint's surprise, Scott wasn't too far behind him either. They might have been watching the game in theory, but the topic of the earlier football game had come up… along with Logan's Canadian heritage. And K couldn't let it pass without comment.

"Sad little hoser trying to keep up with American football … at least those guys aren't trying to hug each other to death like they do in hockey half the time," K said as she snatched the beer right out of Logan's hand and dropped into the seat between him and Kurt. And Logan had no response other than to just stare at her in disbelief.

"Are you kidding me right now?" he asked, though he didn't even try to retrieve his beer, instead moving his arm so she could settle in more comfortably.

"Nope. Last hockey game I saw, there was at least half an hour of those silly little rink rats rushing to snuggle," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sure it's indicative of something."

"Not to mention the long sticks," Clint said quietly from where he was staked out near the chips and salsa.

"No, sweetheart - the whole point of the sticks is to trip the idiot on the other team that got too close."

"No, they hit each other and then everyone else hugs," Clint said.

"You know … I miss the way the Red Wings  _used_ to play," K said. "I seem to recall a beautiful fight on the ice that had a mid-air collision. Put half the opposing team in the hospital. It was beautiful. No hugs."

"Plenty of injuries in American football," Kurt teased. "Hardly a play goes by without someone being carted off."

"Yeah … that's what makes it worth watching. If I wanted soap opera drama, I  _guess_ I'd watch the Oilers lose," K said, shrugging, and only getting Logan to cover his face with one hand before he headed over to grab another drink.

"Or soccer," Bobby put in. "You know. Three minutes on a not-even-a-touch, milk-it-til-you-cry kind of injury?"

"Rugby is the answer to soccer," K said, pointing her bottle at Bobby. "Women's rugby."

"Mom could play the whole team herself," Clint said with a snicker.

"Oh no," K said, shaking her head. "I'll just watch that one. Not fair to get in the middle of a group like that." She looked up at Logan as he brought a beer over for Kurt and took the seat next to her again. She gave him a troublemaking sort of smirk and readjusted how she was sitting so she could lean on him a little better — and still continued picking. He was clearly doing his best to ignore her jabs, smirking and shaking his head whenever it was a good enough one to get Scott laughing out loud.

The group was in high spirits and enjoying a bit of the friendly ribbing as they watched the game when Jean noticed Clint leaning tiredly into the couch and offered to take him upstairs with a kind smile. "You must be tired…"

"No thanks," he said.

"Are you sure?" she said, looking like she was ready to scoop him up and carry him up all on her own if need be. "I can make you some hot chocolate too."

"No, I want to be here," Clint said with a determined sort of look on his face, rearranging the way he was sitting so he wasn't leaned over anymore.

But that was enough to have caught K's attention, and she made a point of reaching over and pinching Logan in the ribs. "I think this game's pretty well washed out. Thanks for letting me steal your brew ... "

He gave her a crooked little smile, though he did move away to keep her from pinching him again as he lifted up his arm for her to get up. "Anytime."

K smiled his way and then tapped Clint on the arm. "Hey, my team is winning, and I think we all know I don't need to gloat here,  _eh?_ "

Clint couldn't help but giggle at that. "Everyone knows better than that," he said.

"So let's head up before the whining starts," she said, lifting her arm to drape over his shoulders when he was on his feet.

Clint grinned at that and nodded. "Alright," he said, following her out into the hall while the rest of the team stayed to finish the rest of the double header.

 _You know he was going to stay here all night if he had to,_ Jean projected to Logan.  _She's got one protective kid._

 _Yeah, Jeannie, I figured that out,_  Logan replied.  _I'll talk to him._

 _Might help to leave the beer next game,_ she suggested.

Logan frowned to himself at that. He'd had an inkling, but having it confirmed...  _Is_ that  _what the trouble is?_

 _Well, in his mind, you're tough enough to hurt her,_ and  _you're drinking_ —  _yeah, that's what the trouble was._

He weighed it out for a moment.  _I don't know how to explain that I wouldn't hurt her. Not like he'd believe a word of it. Especially if I bring it up._

 _Try explaining that you can't get drunk_ —  _at least, not like that, and not without trying much harder._

 _I'll do that, but even if I was drunk, that's not the way I go,_  Logan replied with a little smirk.

Jean couldn't help but smirk as well.  _Well, maybe he should hear a little of that too._

He shook his head and looked up her way.  _We'll see where it goes._

 _We all like her, Logan,_ Jean added, the smile obvious even in her psychic voice.  _We're pulling for you._

 _How lucky for me when I really don't give a crap what the popular opinion is,_  he couldn't help but respond back.

Jean raised an eyebrow at her.  _Well_ I  _like her._

_You like the kid. It's in neon, Jeannie. Scott likes how she picks on people other than him._

_He's fun,_ Jean said with a smile.  _Besides, they_ both  _know how to get you. You should hear some of the zingers he has that he won't say around you_ —  _yet._

He smirked to himself.  _I'll bet._ He thought about it for a long moment before he nodded to himself.

He just had to figure out exactly how he was even going to get the kid alone for five minutes when he was so skittish around him.

It wasn't until Monday after Clint's classes that he had a chance to really get the kid to stand still for longer than a few seconds when he caught him and asked him to stop by when he was done with his lessons. Clint agreed, though he was wary by the time he made it to Logan's now-empty classroom, where Logan was reading.

"Whose class did you just leave?" Logan asked before he looked up at him.

"Storm," Clint said with a small smile. "She got me a couple comic books — I  _like_ reading those." He paused. "I didn't really… like reading before."

"That's a start anyhow," Logan said. "You're doin' fine. But that's not why I wanted to see you." He leaned forward as Clint nearly held his breath. "I got a couple things I wanna go over. For starters: I hope you know if someone worked you over, you should tell me about it, so I can take care of it."

Clint blinked at Logan in honest surprise before he looked down at his hands. "No."

"It's not a big deal," Logan said, trying to impress on him what he was offering. "I have a problem with anyone that hurts kids or women."

Clint shifted a bit more. "He's dead anyway, so it doesn't really matter."

Logan's head lifted a little at that, and he slowly nodded. "I had to ask. I know someone did you wrong, and it wouldn't be the first time I went after someone for one of the kids here."

Clint watched Logan for a moment. "Mom does that too," he said.

He smiled a little and nodded. "I bet she does. They never see her coming." He took a breath. "Might be somethin' about similar mutations — which I wanted to ask you about. What do you know about what she can do?" He held up both hands. "I already know. We talked it over, compared notes, and found we were more or less the same. I wanna know what you understand about her — and me."

Clint tipped his head to the side and watched Logan carefully. "I know… I know she can track and smell and hear well and …" He paused for a long time as Logan waited for him. "I know when the bad guys hurt her, she can shake it off. But it still  _hurts_. I know it does, even if she doesn't say it."

He nodded. "It does," he agreed before he let out a breath. "Somethin' else you should know is that drugs of any kind really don't work on us unless it's enough to kill a herd of elephants."

"Okay," Clint said slowly, though it was obvious he didn't understand the implications of that one just yet.

"So," Logan said, leaning forward just a little bit. "Whoever it was that used to drink and work you over … that's not going to happen here. There isn't enough booze in the place to get me a solid buzz, let alone drunk. And ... " he took a breath and tried for a little smile. "On incredibly rare occasions that it happens, and I go that far, I'm more of a friendly singer."

Clint blinked. "You… don't get drunk?"

"Not without putting some serious work into it," Logan said. "And I don't like to get out of my senses, so it's  _really_ rare."

Clint watched Logan for a long time before he got to his feet and pointed one finger Logan's way. "Are you just saying this because you wanna get with my mom? Because it  _sounds_ like it."

"No," Logan said slowly. "I'm saying it because it's the truth. When you were brought in — when those black ops creeps darted her — it was enough to have killed everyone on our jet and their choppers. That's the only reason she went down, and I'm not entirely sure if it would have taken another one to do the same to me or not. But that's how the healing works. It cleans everything out. And I thought you should know."

Clint nodded slowly. "Okay…"

"I'm not going to hurt her. Or you," Logan told him. "And I wanted to make sure you knew that. It goes against everything I am." He shrugged. "Bad guys and supervillains are a different story."

"If you're lying to me, I'm going to make sure you never ever see my mom again," Clint warned him, leveling a finger at him and looking as serious as he could.

"I make it a rule not to lie to kids," Logan said, holding his gaze.

Finally, slowly, Clint nodded. "Alright," he said. "But just remember, my mom taught me how to hurt people and make it  _last_."

Logan managed to smirk as he nodded. "She did. And that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. What are your interests outside of Jean and 'Ro's classes? You got anything in mind yet?"

"I dunno. I 'm not really  _good_ at anything," Clint said, shrugging in a perfect matter-of-fact tone.

"You're good at fightin'," Logan said. "And if you'd like, I can teach you a little there too. If you're still in the school come fall, you'll wipe the floor with the combat kids when you get to it."

"If we're here that long," Clint said.

"And if not... wouldn't hurt to know more self defense anyhow."

"Okay, well, I'll think about it," Clint said, biting his lip and once more looking down at his hands. "I do like learning that stuff, but my mom's already pretty good..."

"She's damn good," Logan agreed. "I have a different angle, that's all." He stood up and tipped his head. "Keep doing what you're doing. 'Ro said you're picking up pace in her class. That's not easy to do."

"She's being nice," Clint said quietly. "I can read a lot better now."

"She ain't that nice if a kid ain't tryin."

"Hey, that's one thing I  _can_ do," Clint said. "I know how to work hard." He headed for the door and then paused. "My mom is really special, okay?"

"I know," Logan agreed.

"Okay, as long as you got that clear," Clint said with a nod before he ducked out, though he was wearing a little smile, at least.


	11. You're Not My Real Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint goes out shooting with Logan and K and runs into Big Trouble.

 

* * *

 

Clint had still been treading carefully around Logan, though he was cautiously optimistic about going shooting with Logan and K, his bow clutched in his hands as they headed off through the grounds. It turned out that Logan knew how to shoot a bow and arrow too, which Clint thought was pretty cool — even if he still wasn't sure he wanted the guy kissing his mom.

And it didn't change the fact that Clint kept glancing over at Logan for the first few shots, because he wasn't sure how good Logan was and Clint was still learning and he wasn't sure if Logan would be mad that he was wasting their time if he saw that he kept hitting the red and not the yellow as much.

"Got a good eye, kid," Logan said after Clint had used up the arrows in his quiver.

Clint looked over his shoulder at Logan and gave him a small smile. "That's what Mom says."

"I'd bet you'd nail bullseyes every time if you watch when you time your release."

"You want me to watch my arrow and not my target?" Clint asked, wrinkling his nose. "That's not how Mom taught me."

Logan smirked and shook his head. "No. I just meant if you learn to cycle your breaths and let the arrow loose on the end of an exhale ...well. You'll figure it out."

Clint looked past Logan to K, who was nodding, and then back to Logan. "Okay. What's that? Mom showed me how to shoot with my breathing, but what's a cycle?"

Logan didn't move closer but started to explain how to breathe in a more focused way, counting the inhale and exhale, and how it helped to keep a more steady hand. But Clint was grateful that he still seemed to keep his distance from Clint. Almost like he knew Clint didn't want him to get too close...

"It'll seem weird to start with," K added. "But the more you do it, the more it comes naturally. And it applies to guns, too." When he looked her way, she smiled. "We would have gone over this later. Didn't want to throw too much at you at once."

Clint nodded, his face scrunched up in concentration in the exact same expression that he gave Storm whenever he was in her class and trying to get a difficult passage of reading. But it all made sense, so he turned back to his target with new determination — sure that he'd be able to get it fast if he worked hard.

And in the meantime, K was sitting on the picnic table, leaning her elbows on her knees as she watched Clint get into it. As Clint got more settled into his breathing, Logan made his way over to lean against the table with her, wearing a crooked little smirk that got her rolling her eyes at him.

But then a few moments later, Clint managed to get a perfect bullseye, and immediately, he let out a whoop of happiness and spun around to rush over to K. "Mom! Did you see that?"

She was grinning his way as she nodded. "It was  _beautiful,_ sweetheart _._ "

"I wanna see if I can split it down the middle like the movies," Clint laughed delightedly.

"Bet you can," she agreed, already handing him a fresh quiver. "Robin Hood that sucker."

"Right down the middle," Clint promised, rushing off with the quiver in hand and a delightedly little giggle as he snatched up his bow again.

"You know he's too worked up to do it again, right?" Logan said quietly over K's shoulder, though she shushed him and smiled his way as Clint tried to get his breathing figured out again.

The two of them were half leaning into each other when Clint finally got his grin under control and started to steady his breath, though he had already learned to do that much  _before_  he drew it back, since it was a lot harder to hold it steady for a long time than it was to get it ready to go and  _then_ pull back.

He focused on the center of the nock from the last arrow, and at the very bottom of his breath, he let it fly—

—but it never hit the target, since a massive, blond man stepped out with the arrow in his grip and a crooked, disturbing sort of smile in place.

"Hey!" Clint shouted angrily, glaring at the big blond with his chin thrust out. "You screwed up my shot!"

The man started to chuckle before there was an echoing twang — and an arrow went through his knee. "Get away from him," K called out to Clint as Logan started to growl.

Clint didn't need telling twice when he heard the tone of K's voice and quickly scrambled back toward K with his bow still clutched to him tightly.

"Cute little blond," Creed said with a malicious little glint. "What … he's about nine, ain't he? Little scrawnier than I'd like to see …"

K was positively frozen as she watched him take his time drawing closer, and though she had the bow and arrow in her hands, she couldn't seem to get it together enough to draw back and nail the creep.

Logan turned Clint's way for just a second and mouthed out 'Run' before he darted forward with a snarl and started flat out tearing into Creed — claws and snarls — and completely not letting the bigger man get in any kind of a hit that was worth much of anything.

Clint was wide-eyed as he grabbed K by the hand and started pulling on her to get her to move too. "C'mon, Mom," he whispered.

She swallowed hard and started down the path with him as they left the snarls and roars behind them. "Wait," she said after they'd gotten some distance. "We can't run from him. Not if he wins."

Clint turned to face her and swallowed hard before he nodded. "Okay," he said. "I'll shoot him in the balls — and you take him down."

She managed a little smile and nodded. "Be ready. If he wins … he'll come after us with a roar. Guaranteed."

Clint nodded and gripped his bow a little tighter. "He doesn't scare me," he lied, just because K looked scared and he wanted her to feel a little better.

"He should," she replied as she nocked an arrow of her own. "That guy is nothing but nightmares and evil."

Clint nodded. "Then I'm glad you got away."

"Guess I didn't get far enough away," she said, glaring down the path they'd just come down. "Once you shoot, get out of here. He heals too."

"I'm not gonna let him hurt you."

She wanted to correct him, but she knew that if the guy came after them, and she was out of the fight, the kid was in deep trouble. But it wasn't too long before they heard heavy breathing and saw someone coming their way — though he most certainly wasn't blond.

Logan was battered and covered in blood, his clothes half shredded — though he still looked like he was ready to tear something in half. "Let's get back to the house," he said low.

"Are you okay?" Clint asked, his eyes as wide as they would go.

"I'll be fine," Logan answered, doing his best not to sound nearly as pissed off as he was. "Don't worry."

"Did you kill him?"

Logan let out a breath and turned his way. "He's not real easy to kill," Logan admitted. "But I gave it a solid shot — and he's off to lick his wounds."

"Oh, okay," Clint said. He watched Logan carefully all the way back to the house, though he was still hovering close to K.

"I want to talk to you," Logan said to K before he gestured to himself. "After I get rid of the stink."

"I'm sure you do," she said, though she nodded at that and simply steered Clint the opposite direction of Logan. "Sorry your range time got cut short, Clint."

"That's okay," Clint said. He watched her carefully. "You got a really good shot on his knee, though. That was pretty cool."

"Should have aimed for his head," K said.

"Or his crotch," Clint said.

She pulled him into a quick hug and kissed his forehead. "Doesn't always work as well as you'd like to think, sweetie."

"Maybe," he allowed. "But it makes 'em remember you."

"That it does," she agreed, though as soon as Clint was off and putting away his bow and quivers, K turned to go talk to Logan. This was going to be uncomfortable, and she knew it.

She waited for him at the top of the stairs, knowing that he'd gone to his room to deal with the mess and put on clean clothes, and thankfully, when he reappeared freshly washed, there wasn't even a trace of Creed's scent anywhere on him.

He stopped when he saw her and gently pulled his door shut before he padded silently to her and offered her his arm. "My office alright with you?" Logan asked as they started down the stairs.

"Seems appropriate. Get in trouble, go to the teacher's office .."

"You're not in trouble," Logan said, shaking his head. "Not anymore trouble than you were in already, that is." He gave her a little smirk, and she paused before smiling back his way.

"Tenacious."

"You bet," he agreed, and a few minutes later, she was taking a seat, and he was closing the door behind them. "I know he worked for Weapon X," Logan started out before he leaned on his desk so he could be nearer to her. "And I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess that whatever happened with him wasn't something you were going along with."

"It was not," she said, shaking her head already.

"That's not unusual for him," Logan said before he blew out his breath, and the two of them watched each other for a long moment. " _You didn't have a plan to deal with him."_  He was frowning her way as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you know him, and it's clear you do — you can't just … that's how he tears people apart."

"I had a plan," she defended. "But it's taken him this long to even find me, okay? And … I wasn't expecting him to break the ice like that."

"K," he said in an almost disappointed sounding breath.

"I know. He's like that. I just … it's been nearly ten years that he hasn't been able to find me." K let one hand wave it off before she rested it at her temple and leaned into her hand. "I made it  _ten years_ , Logan."

"Which is  _stupidly_ impressive," he had to agree. "Hell, he catches up to me once a year."

"You … have been in one place for a long time," she pointed out.

He nodded and fixed her with a more serious expression. "And about that..."

"You know that I found Clint. As much as I claim him to be, he's not biologically mine."

"I know that," Logan said before he slipped into the chair next to her and let his voice drop. "But Creed doesn't. And he made it pretty clear that he thinks he's got a claim."

K threw her hands up and shook her head. "Well … his timeline is a little off, and just … no way would I allow that." She crossed her arms tightly. "I got out. I got away. That's it. I do  _not_ have a kid with that psycho."

Logan nodded at that. "Okay. Not like it'd be a deal breaker if you had."

She stopped and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "You know I wouldn't  _agree_ to do anything with him … right?"

Logan nodded. "Yeah. Things happen anyhow."

"It's not the case," she said flatly.

"That's fine. Maybe you can spend a little time just you an' me, lettin' me know everything else. Ignore the Creed garbage and tell me more about  _you."_ He leaned back in his chair and made sure his stance was relaxed. "Tell me your past … I'll tell you mine."

She smirked at him and relaxed a little. "I already know about you."

"Do you now?" he said, looking more troublemaking. "You know what was in the files. But you don't know me."

"Fair point," she conceded with an almost playful smirk. "Okay … you go first. Tell me something I don't already know."

* * *

Clint had just finished putting up his bow when Jean and Storm both came around the corner, chatting easily back and forth with each other — though Jean paused when she saw Clint to give him a warm smile and a hello. "Back already from the target range?" Jean asked. "I thought you'd be out there all afternoon."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, we were gonna… but this big huge guy showed up and scared my mom," he admitted, drawing himself in. It was obvious that he was shaken by the fact that  _anything_ could scare his mom, even if he'd been trying to be brave when it was happening.

Jean froze, the friendly expression evaporating into concern. "What … what big huge guy?"

"I dunno. He's big and he scared Mom and Logan fought him," Clint said.

Jean made her way over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Can you tell me more?"

Clint bit his lip and nodded, though it was a mark of how much he liked the two women that he stepped closer to drop his voice to a whisper — and partway curl into Jean while he was at it. "He showed up outta nowhere and caught my arrow and … and he scared Mom because he said … he said I was scrawny and I think Mom was running away from him and — and he's  _not_ my dad, okay?" he said, gaining steam with every word until his eyes were as wide as they would go, and he was almost gripping Jean's arm.

"Wow," Jean said, wide-eyed. "You're projecting a whole lot right now."

"I don't mean to be loud," Clint said, loosening his grip on Jean's arm slightly and looking red-faced. "I was just real scared 'cause Mom's never been  _scared_ before," he added, letting his gaze drop. "I'm sorry — I'm not trying to yell in your head or nothing."

"No, it's alright," Jean promised. "I actually know who you're talking about now. How … do you know how it went?"

"Logan said he tried to kill him but he didn't — he just ran away," Clint whispered. "He got real torn up, though."

"But he was okay enough to walk?"

"Yeah, he came back with us, and he's talking with Mom now,"

Jean let out a breath. "Then he did really well," she said. "Usually, those two are pretty even. Logan must have been mad."

Clint paused and then leaned forward. "He told me he's got a real problem with people who screw with women and kids," he said seriously.

"He really does," Jean agreed. "Is she okay? And you? He didn't touch you, did he?"

Clint shook his head. "Mom got me away," he promised. "She's real scared, though."

"So she knows him then, hmm?" Jean asked, frowning slightly.

Clint nodded. "A long time ago," he said. "Cause he ... he was acting like he thought maybe…" He leaned forward to drop his voice as low as he could get it. "He ain't my dad, but he sure acted like a deadbeat."

Jean's expression shifted into something that Clint couldn't quite place. "That's not good."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, no kidding," he said.

"That guy," Jean said as she started to guide Clint down the hall. "That guy and Logan — they hate each other."

"Really?" Clint glanced up at Jean. "Is it 'cause Logan doesn't like creeps who hurt kids and women? 'Cause that's his own fault, you know. He's a creep."

"He really is," Jean agreed. "And yeah, that's the quick version of it. We should … probably go talk to Scott."

"Do we hafta?" Clint said with a sigh.

"No," she said. "Not if you don't want to. Did you want to find your mom, or …"

Clint paused. "Well… she's talking with Logan right now, and I don't wanna see them kissing…" He let out a sigh. "Okay, I  _guess_ we can go see Scott, but no kissing, okay? I'm getting real tired of it."

"If you're that tired of it, I think I can keep it under wraps," Jean promised, eyes dancing with amusement.

"Thanks, Jean," Clint said, sure to give her a little hug as they headed down the hall to let Scott know just who had been on the grounds — and so the rest of the residents of the institute could know what they were facing.


	12. When In Doubt, Stab 'Im

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan takes Clint aside to try and teach him a few tricks to keep him alive, considering some of the threats he and his mom are facing.

 

* * *

Half of the mansion had spent the evening after Creed's unexpected appearance watching movies and trying to help keep the appearance of calm for Clint — while the other half was monitoring all of their security systems and volunteering to join the watch, since Creed had a tendency to work around security systems when he shouldn't be able to.

It was almost normal for a warm summer evening, and the people on watch were being discreet about it at least — though that illusion was more or less shattered when Logan stepped in after hours hunting with nothing to show for it but about sixteen pounds of mud caked to him and almost obscuring the stripes on his uniform.

But when he got in, he didn't rush down to the locker room to clean up and change. Instead, he headed to the kitchen first to grab some water and clear his head. Where was, of course, where Clint was refilling his popcorn.

Logan grabbed some water and leaned against the counter as he almost chugged it, staring at a spot on the floor where the cabinets met the hardwood, not saying a word for the longest time. Until finally... "You alright?" he asked, clearly to Clint, since he was the only one there.

Clint looked up quickly and then nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," he promised. "Did you fall down a mudhole?"

"Nah, just tracked through a couple of 'em," Logan said. "Idiot still thinks a little mud'll hide his trail from me."

"Oh, you were going after that big guy, huh?" Clint said. "Everyone is still real mad he showed up here, even if they're pretending not to be around me." He rolled his eyes. "I'm not  _stupid_ "

Logan watched him for a long moment, weighing it out. "I don't know what they told you about him, but he's a thorn in my side as often as he can be."

"Yeah, Jean said you guys hate each other," Clint said. 'Cause he is mean to kids and girls."

"That's puttin' it lightly," Logan said before he took another long drink. "You an' I need to spend a little time, I think. You're gonna need a few tools to protect yourself for when that moron shows up again. Even if you leave the school, he'll be lookin' for your mom now."

Clint bit his lip as he nodded. "Yeah… I don't want him to hurt her," he said. "I never seen her scared like that except when the bad guys almost caught her."

"He works for the bad guys," Logan said as he pushed away from the counter. "When you wanna learn a few dirty tricks?"

"Anytime," Clint said, trying not to let his anticipation show. "I like learning stuff like that."

"Your mom said you can throw. Can you hit it as good with a knife as you do an arrow?"

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah, I can. And with any knife — and I'm even okay with a hatchet — but not as good as my big brother."

Logan nodded again. "Why don't you meet me in my office? Gimmie a few minutes to change. I wanna see you throw."

"Okay," Clint said, nodding quickly. "I'll meet you there."

Logan dipped his head and headed for the stairs, almost at a jog before he hit the first step. He took his time, sure that Clint was going to get hung up handing his popcorn off, but when he showed up at his office with a box under his arm, the little boy was already waiting. "You got your knives?"

Clint grinned and nodded, showing Logan the little box of knives that K had gotten him. "I got some nice ones for Christmas, but they're back home."

"That's fine," Logan said. "I just want you to show me what you can do, then I'll give you something too." He gestured toward the hall. "We can set up a target in the Danger Room. And I can show you a few nasty tricks that'll help you if you can't run.  _But don't use 'em if you can get away._ "

Clint nodded seriously. "Yeah, he's real big and scary — and I'd rather get away with Mom," he said. "She said it's better to get away where you can't get hurt, because he won't be nice."

Logan nodded at that. "She's not wrong."

The walk down to the Danger Room was quiet, though Logan didn't miss the fact that Clint was nearly bouncing in place. "I'm sure everyone's told you to nail a big guy low," Logan said once they got do the Danger Room — and he'd finished barking out a few codes for a target range to appear. "Don't do that with him."

"But it works," Clint said. "I had a foster dad that I headbutted him in the nuts, and he let go  _fast_."

Logan shook his head. "It doesn't work on him too well," Logan said. "Bounces back too fast. See .. he heals like I do."

"Oh." Clint frowned at that. "Okay. But… but that makes it hard to make stuff stick."

"It does," Logan agreed. "You can shoot him in the nuts, though. That's always worth a laugh."

"Yeah, arrows do more damage than my head."

"You know why, don'tcha?" Logan said with a smirk. "He's gotta pull 'em out."

"Ooh, yeah, Mom had to do that once with a knife and it was  _not_ fun," Clint said, making a face.

"Yeah, well … remind me to set you up with some special broadheads," Logan said. "I can get some that'll fly like a field tip until they make impact and expand."

Clint tried not to look too excited, but he was completely failing at it. "That would be really cool," he breathed out.

Logan set his box down and turned to Clint. "Show me what you do to make it stick. Hit me."

All of the excitement drained from his face as Clint froze. "Hit you?"

"Yeah, hit me." He waved him forward. "Come on. I can take it."

"Yeah, but… but I ain't mad at you…"

"I know," Logan said, letting his tone soften a little. "But I can't tell you how to make it worse if I don't know what you can do already."

Clint let out a breath and then nodded, squaring up his shoulders as he looked up at Logan. "Okay, well… I know it hurts even if you heal... so you just tell me if you wanna stop, okay? I don't wanna make you mad…" he said softly.

"You won't make me mad," Logan said. "I'm asking you to do this so I can make sure you can really drop someone if you need to. The more you can make it hurt, the more I'll know you're tryin'."

"Okay," Clint said, though it was obvious he was still a little wary when he started out — since he had put way more into it when they first met and he'd been trying to stop Logan from taking his mom.

But when Logan kept encouraging him to work harder — and even giving him tips on how to make it worse — Clint started to put more into it, until he was really giving it his all, trying to keep up with Logan's instructions.

"Better," Logan said after a long session. "You up to throwin', or are you done?"

"No, I wanna show you my knives!" Clint said quickly, though he was red-faced. "I'm real good — I can do the kind that flies fast  _and_ the kind that's showy for circus acts and stuff!"

"I'm not interested in anything showy," Logan said. "Just show me what you can do. And make it stick hard."

Clint grinned at that and nodded — though he couldn't help but show off anyway now that they had gotten to the part that he knew he was good at. "Watch this," he told Logan with a crooked grin before he spun on his heel and simply attacked the target — making an 'x' with the knives. "See? X for X-Men!"

Logan smirked and nodded. "Nice." He made his way over to the box he'd brought and then handed Clint a longer knife that looked a lot like the hunting knife K kept up at the cottage. "Show me how you do with longer ones. The balance is gonna be off, too."

Clint nodded. "Lemme practice a few times, and I'll get used to it. And then I'll be throwing bullseyes every time; you'll see," he promised.

"Sure, but I wanna just see how you do from your gut," Logan said. "Whip it."

"O-kay," Clint said with a shrug before he played with the knife a bit, nodded to himself, and threw it hard and fast toward the target — a bit to the left but still pretty well-centered. "Mom had us practice with lots of weapons," he told Logan, clearly pleased with himself with how well he was throwing.

Logan's expression was a little more open than it had been before as he thought it over. "Two more, just like it," he said, handing them over. "Don't think about it. Just do it."

"No thinking; I can do that," Clint teased before he tossed the next two as well, grinning to himself. "This is kinda fun. What else you got?"

"Just something I want you to keep on you," Logan said as he went back to the box. He took the bottom out of the box and set it aside before he took out a smaller but heavy knife that looked almost military. "These aren't very common," Logan said as he turned toward Clint and held the knife out to him hilt first, with the blade resting on his wrist.

Clint took the knife carefully, his eyes wide. "I never seen one like this," he said, playing with the balance a little as he examined it.

"That's because the metal only comes from Russia," Logan told him. "But it's a little fragile, so you can't throw it unless you need to." He waited until Clint looked up at him. "If you aim true ... hell, even if you don't … that knife will break off if you stick a guy with it. And even Creed won't be able to chase you down too good with that blade lodged in him."

Clint was wide-eyed. "Yeah… yeah, that makes sense," he said. 'Cause there's a knife in him, and he can't heal with a thing in him."

"No," Logan said, shaking his head slowly. "The blade is made out of carbonadium. And something about that metal stops all healing in people that heal fast."

When Clint realized what he had in his hands, he stopped and stared at Logan with his mouth parted. "But… but that means… that means you could get hurt  _real bad_  even with your powers!"

"Yeah, but it wouldn't be the first time," Logan said. "More important that you can protect yourself."

Clint stared at Logan, still frozen. "And you're gonna  _give_ it to me? Even though it can hurt you?"

Logan nodded at that. "It can protect you if you use it. So yeah. Why the hell wouldn't I?"

"Because… because you're kissing my mom and I said you — I said I'd hit you if you — you gave me a thing that can  _kill you_!" Clint said, looking at Logan in pure awe and confusion.

"You need it to cover your back, kid," Logan said. "And I told you I'm not gonna hurt her. I'm not worried about it."

Clint set the knife down on top of the box for a moment before he simply darted forward and gave Logan a hug that lasted as long as it took him to blink in surprise. "Thanks," he muttered, red-faced as he went back to the box to grab up the knife again.

"Don't play with it, and don't let it be seen," Logan said. "Your best shot with that thing is still if he doesn't know you got it." He let out a breath as he made his way toward the target to pull out the knives stuck there. "And hopefully, he won't get anywhere close enough for you to have to worry about it."

"And you'll get mad at him if he comes even close to this school, huh?"

"Clint, I'm mad that he's still breathin'," Logan said. "Worst case, I know when I can find him."

Clint smiled at Logan quietly. "Then you must be mad a lot, 'cause breathing goes on  _forever_ ," he teased.

"Over a hundred years, so far," Logan said.

"A hundred years?"

"Far as I can figure, yeah."

"That's a real long time," Clint said, his eyes wide. "I'm only  _seven_. My dad and his dad don't even go back that far!"

"Which'd make it all the more impressive if you were the one to nail that creep, even if I wanna do it myself."

Clint smirked. "I bet I could," he said. "I bet I could hit him right between the eyes. Or right in the heart. K showed me how to aim there too."

"That's a better bet with that blade. Skull might be too hard."

"Oooh, yeah, I didn't think about that," Clint said with a nod. "That's a good idea. I'll do that."

Logan shook his head as he packed up the box. "Keep practicing. You'll be fine. But don't go lookin' for trouble. Let the team do their thing."

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah, I got it. Let the grown ups do their job," he said quickly. He leaned forward with a smirk. "Jean made me tell Scott what happened, and he was as red as his glasses, so I think you're not the only one who's mad."

"I still got first shot," Logan said easily.

"Unless I beat you there," Clint said.

Logan turned his way. "Doesn't that go against 'lettin' the grown ups do their thing'?"

"You're not a grownup; you're my mom's guy," Clint said. "That's  _different_."

Logan blinked a few times, trying to figure that one out. "How?"

"I dunno; it just is. Family rules are different than normal grownup rules, I think."

"Well, I'm oldest; still callin' it," Logan said.

"Now you sound like  _Barney_ ," Clint said, sticking his tongue out.

"I don't know Barney," Logan said easily.

"Well, we're gonna go see him later when we don't got so many bad guys after us," Clint said. He shook his head. "He's probably real worried, but we don't want him to get in trouble."

"Maybe we can figure that part out anyhow," Logan offered. "Ways around 'em."

"Mom said she was gonna dress up as a witch for Halloween so people wouldn't recognize her," he said. "She's real smart."

"She is," Logan agreed. "But I got other ways, too."

"Okay, well, if we ain't got rid of him and the other bad guys by Halloween, we can do other stuff too," Clint said.

"How about you find out how much of that movie you missed?"

Clint nodded, clutching his knife a little more. "Yeah. Thank you. Again. For the knife and stuff."

"No problem," Logan said before they parted ways once again.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Clint came down a little after his mom, as usual. But this time, he took his cereal to the end of the table and planted himself in the seat between his mom and Logan, smirking up at both of them before he set to eating his breakfast — perfectly content right where he was.

Which was a small but totally unusual thing for him, considering how much berth he had been giving Logan until that point.

Logan and K both didn't act like there was a thing unusual about it either, going about their business as usual — even as Jean openly watched the three of them. Finally, her curiosity was too much to ignore, but with Clint right there, she decided to keep the conversation telepathic as she reached out to Logan.

 _I see you and Clint are getting along better now,_ she said, completely unable to keep the pleasure out of her voice, even mentally.

_Don't know what you're talkin' about, Jeannie._

_Oh, don't give me that. I've never seen him that comfortable around you! That's a great sign!_

_Which sign is that? The one that says you're not stickin' your nose in it or the one that says the kid's just finally relaxin' a little?_

Jean gave him a dry look.  _Oh come on. I'm allowed to be excited. I know as well as you do how hard it is for him to 'relax a little' around men especially_ —  _and someone who's kissing his mom? I mean, just yesterday, he was complaining about you and the kissing._

_Probably just spent a little too much time with your other half._

Jean rolled her eyes.  _Logan, come on. I know you like her. This is great. I know it's got to be a little more complicated with a little boy involved, and now he's relaxing. That's good._

_Jeannie ... I don't know what you want from me here._

_I'm just… I'm just excited to see one of my dearest friends finding someone in his life, okay?_ She paused and then flashed him a smile.  _And if him warming up to you means they're more inclined to stay and I can keep teaching him math…_

 _You know … you're not nearly as subtle as you like to think you are,_  Logan said.  _Never wanted to say anything about it before, but … you need to work on it._

Jean smirked at him.  _I'll consider it._

 _I think you're jumpin' the gun a little there, too_.  _Couple stolen kisses isn't exactly the way you're paintin' it up._

_If you say so, Logan._

"Miss Jean, I dunno who you're talking to, but you're giving it away when you're making faces," Clint informed Jean, cutting across the telepathic conversation and earning a smirk out of more than a few of the people around them — who were used to Jean's antics by then.

"He's right, you know," K said without looking up from the book she was reading.

"You're not the only one giving me advice on being subtle today," Jean said, shooting Logan a look before she smiled Clint's way. "Are you doing better this morning?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, I'm good," he promised. "I'm gonna practice knives today. I'm real good, so you can see if you want. I can show you how I make 'em spin!"

"That sounds great," Jean said, looking between Clint and Logan for a moment. "Maybe you can show me how to do that too."

"You bet," Clint said, grinning widely. "It's fun! We can do it after math, okay?"

"That's perfect," Jean agreed, shooting a little look Logan's way before she simply refilled her coffee and settled in with Scott. Maybe Logan wasn't ready to acknowledge it yet, but Jean was absolutely  _sure_ that this was a good thing.

And in her opinion, it was about time.


	13. Hands Off the Duck Fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a big blond problem shows up again, and Clint puts what he's learned to good use.

 

* * *

Storm was by far Clint's favorite teacher at the school, because she was patient with him but also because she didn't treat him like he was stupid or too little to do anything. So when Mother's Day came along, he knew that she would be the right one to ask to take him shopping so he could find something for her. K needed new riding boots; he'd heard her say so. And he really wanted to get K something for Mother's Day because — because he hadn't had a mom to give a Mother's Day present to in a long time.

And he knew he could ask Jean, but then she would spend the whole time treating him like he was  _four_.

So he waited until after his reading class was over before he approached Storm with an almost shy sort of smile. "Hey… can I ask you a favor?" he asked quietly. "You can say no."

Ororo smiled at him warmly. "Of course," she told him.

"Well, I… I want to get my mom some new riding boots but it's too far to walk, and I need to ask someone to maybe take me. If that's okay."

That got an even warmer smile from Storm, who quickly nodded. "Of course I'll take you. We'll take Remy's credit card. I'm sure he wouldn't object to funding such a noble cause."

Clint couldn't help but grin at that. "Yes, let's do that," he agreed fervently — and then laughed when she produced the card between her fingers to show him that she already had it. "Oh, you're good."

"You aren't so bad yourself," she said with a smirk.

"Stealing things is easy," Clint said with a shrug. "Especially when you're little enough that people don't notice you."

Storm had to laugh and nod her agreement at that before the two of them headed out to do a little shopping. And just to make Clint feel better — since Storm knew that he was still a little self-conscious about asking for anything for himself — Storm asked him to help her find a few things as well once they'd found the right boots.

And unsurprisingly, Clint had a good eye for shopping too. It wasn't something any of the ladies at the mansion had taught him or anything — he just seemed to get sizes pretty quickly and easily, and once he had an idea of the kind of thing Storm was looking for, he could pick out other clothes like that faster than she could.

"Maybe I should take you on all my shopping trips," she laughed.

Clint shrugged, but it was clear he was thrilled with the compliment by the crooked grin he was wearing. "Clothes're easy. You just gotta pay attention to details and colors and stuff. It's all got patterns. They're not real creative about it, even if girl clothes are complicated for  _no reason_."

Storm laughed a little more at that. "They are, aren't they?"

Clint nodded. "Why can't you just get a Queen tee shirt like normal people?"

"Should I get one of those too?"

"Maybe you should," Clint said with a nod. "Lots of the kids at school have 'em."

"You don't miss much, do you, Clint?" she said with a fond sort of smile.

He shook his head. "Nope! Mom says I've got sharp eyes. I just pay attention, that's all. It's not so hard."

"Well, why don't we pick out some snacks to eat on the way home?"

"Can we get Mars Bars?" Clint asked, wide-eyed.

"If that's what you want," Storm said.

Clint broke into a huge grin and nodded at that before he all but ran toward the checkout so he could pick out the candy bars, only waiting long enough for them to get out of the store before he started to unwrap his.

"These are my favorites," he told Storm as they headed to the car. "Mom got them for me sometimes if they had them at gas stations and stuff. And my brother used to pinch 'em from supermarkets."

"Well, lookit there," a familiar, raspy drawl rang out, and when the two of them spun around, the tall, blond man standing in the parking lot was easily recognizable. "Kid's got some decent taste. Go figure."

Storm almost automatically pulled Clint behind her as she spun to face Creed, her eyes already flashing. "You're not wanted here," she said

"Don't act like you'll risk toastin' the kid," Creed said in an easy tone. "You and I both know better." He started to walk toward the two of them, looking overly smug.

"Clint," Storm said in a low tone, "I need you to get out of here. Fast."

Clint didn't argue, either, his eyes wide, recognizing the tone Storm took as one that his mom had used before when there was trouble. He glanced toward Creed for a moment before he simply took off at a full run.

But Creed was quick, and he simply darted forward, intending to slash Storm on his way by, one arm already raised and on the downward arc. He didn't quite get there before she blasted him back with massive winds — though he did just manage to catch her with one claw enough to break the skin, really only enraging her further.

He swore under his breath at how quick she'd been to avoid his claws and doubled down on his chase. After all, if he could just lay a hand on the boy, the chase would be over — and the battle as well. He smirked to himself as he caught sight of the boy's blonde hair almost straight back from his head as he ran for all he was worth, but that wasn't quite going to be enough.

He put on a burst of speed and reached out, easily snagging the back of the kid's shirt, and then an instant later, he wrapped a hand around Clint's upper arm with a grip tight enough that there was no way he'd be able to slip him.

And as expected, Storm froze, even as Clint tried everything to get out, even going so far as to bite Creed's hand as he twisted and fought. Creed chuckled at Clint's fighting spirit. "Lil' scrapper, ain't ya?" He took a hold of his other arm and more or less tucked Clint close with his arms pinned. "We'll work on that, boy."

"Lemme go," Clint said, wriggling and trying to get lose. "My mom's gonna kill you."

"Not a chance, pipsqueak," Creed laughed. "But she'll get awful wound up." He looked over at Storm and tipped his head to Clint. "The weather witch'll pass the message on, I'm sure."

"What do you want, Sabretooth?" Storm asked with a glare.

"Just send the girl after the kid," he said dismissively. "She'll figure it out."

Storm didn't drop her glare in the least, but she knew that she couldn't make a move with Clint in Creed's grasp. She took a slight step back and was already in motion to get to the institute as soon as Creed ran off with Clint, mentally calling out to Charles first — since it was so obviously a trap.

* * *

Logan and K had been in the garage, with Logan working on his motorcycle and K very unhelpfully refusing to hand him the tools unless he asked  _properly_ for them. And then, only if he asked  _nicely._  "Like any good Canadian." He was just about ready to toss the new starter and tackle her before Kitty arrived, looking agitated and nervous as she told the two of them that they needed to get down to the War Room.

"What's going on?" Logan asked, already half exasperated.

Kitty bit her lip. "It's Sabretooth," she admitted.

"What about him?" Logan said as he got to his feet to follow her.

"He caught up with Storm when she was shopping with Clint," Kitty said, still looking incredibly upset and worried as she watched both Logan and K's reactions to that news.

Logan looked like he was ready to start hunting then and there, and she couldn't quite track how quickly the smile disappeared when K realized what was going on. "Where's Clint now?" K asked in a tone that was both soft and dangerous.

"That's the thing," Kitty said. "We don't actually know."

"Get me to wherever he was last. Right now."

"I don't ... Storm would know where to go…" Kitty gestured vaguely in the direction of the War Room.

K looked more frustrated at that. "Do you guys always have a little chat before you get off your backsides and get useful?"

"Only when we don't know what the whole story is," Logan replied, though it was easy to see that he was already considering a few options himself.

"And we don't," Kitty said. "He didn't ... Storm said he didn't really …  _say_ anything except ... well, obviously, he's trying to bug you."

"Mission accomplished," K said shortly.

Kitty nodded at that, but it was obvious she didn't know what else to say or do. She was worried too, especially because she knew that Sabretooth was probably angling to use Clint against Logan or K or both of them. And she  _liked_ Clint, too — she liked playing with him and Sicem and was practically thinking of him as a little brother by that point. Not that she'd said as much.

When they did get down to the War Room, it didn't take long for a furious Storm to fill them in on what had happened — with the sole good news being at least that, aside from a long scratch down Storm's shoulders and neck, no one had been hurt either. At least as far as Storm knew.

"He didn't say anything except to tell K that he had Clint," Storm admitted, her gaze on K. "But you have to know we won't let you go after him alone, K. Whatever he has planned, we won't let him get away with this."

"Whatever," she said impatiently. "Let's just go. I don't care about the logistics."

"Storm, take Logan, K, and Jean to where you last saw Clint," Scott said, picking up on K's increasing irritation — not to mention Jean's own desire to move  _fast_ to get her favorite little student back — and making quick assignments. "I'll take the rest of the team and be behind you when something inevitably goes wrong. Keep in touch — and obviously, anyone gets a chance to get Clint, take it."

No one needed any further prompting than that, and the team quickly headed out. All of them liked the youngest mansion resident, and none of them were about to let Sabretooth keep him for long, after all. So it really didn't take long at all before the team with Logan and K were at the parking lot of the shopping center, with not only Logan and K doing their thing but also Jean reaching out to try to find Clint telepathically.

They were all working hard to find some sign, but the frantic pace that the two ferals were working in seemed to stop all at once for Logan anyhow when he came across the note that was in Creed's messy scrawl. The paper was torn, and the lines of writing were deep enough into the paper that the ink was almost unnecessary. "Got an address," Logan said at just over his usual speaking volume. "No other directions. No idea if it's him or just where he wants us to be."

"We're coming with," Jean said quickly, rushing over to read the address for herself with an obvious frown tugging at her expression and revealing just how much she didn't trust the whole situation.

"Wait," K said, frowning a little deeper. "Make sure it's not … it could be a safehouse for the department. And I wouldn't put it past him to have a deal in place."

"I'll let Scott know," Jean promised, already relaying the information to both Scott and Charles to look into it. "You're right — that sounds like him."

K shook her head at that. " I just mean … the full frontal unified matching pajamas attack might not be the right one. I'm going. Right now. But I'm not headed for the front door."

"We're not letting you walk in alone," Storm said.

"We're still the first team," Jean said. "And the four of us can get there fast."

"That's ridiculous," she said, almost rolling her eyes. "Let him  _think_ I got away and ahead of you."

Logan turned her way, watching her for a moment, since clearly, from the look on K's face, she wasn't entirely done formulating her idea. "Double-cross the double-crosser," he said softly, and she nodded slowly.

"Let him think he's getting what he wants — and have the big guns ready to hit once he breathes."

"Fine," Jean said. "But if Clint is hurt, I'm going to take him apart."

"Take a number," Logan said.

Storm let out a breath looking between the group before she gestured to K. "He's your son. Lead the way."

The little group headed out , with Logan circling around the long way once they got near enough to the address that they had to be stealthy about their approach. And while it was clear that the path to the building was wide open at the front, K made sure to pause where she thought Creed might see her before she circled around to find an alternate way in, too.

Too direct, she was sure, would tip him off. And the only move that made sense was if it seemed like she was operating solo. Of course, all that really meant was that the traps at the front door weren't triggered. Creed was still waiting to yank her into the building as she slipped in the least obvious window in the place, and he didn't waste any time in working on restraining her and then dragging her along with him to where he'd left Clint. bound

"We're leaving," Creed announced flatly as he headed toward Clint, who looked like he was terrified out of his mind, with his hands tied and his cheeks wet.

Clint's eyes went wide when he saw K, and he had already started to shake his head unconsciously before Creed even said anything. "Leave her alone," he said, an obvious tremor to his voice.

"Not likely, kid," Creed said. "Been looking for her for too long." He brought K closer to where Clint was and dropped her next to him, only taking a moment to make sure she was upright, though he would have been better off to have left her where she fell. Before he could even gloat, K threw her head forward and smashed into him — breaking his nose and one of his cheekbones — and getting a whole string of snarling curses for her trouble.

Of course, Clint had the opposite reaction, grinning outright with his chin thrust out and a triumphant sort of 'ha' breaking into the curses. "Toldja."

Creed glared hard at him and made a quick rush toward them, though he stopped short when he saw that K had leaned back as far as she could and drawn her feet up — ready to start kicking. "That's not gonna work twice."

"Cause you're scared of my mom," Clint said with relish.

"Last time, I was in heels," K replied. "Still gonna break off part of my boot, though."

"Just remindin' me to snap 'em off," Creed growled back at her. He took a moment, clearly trying to see how to get to her and not get the crap literally kicked out of him when a twisted sort of smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. He straightened up and stepped out of the room for a moment, though K never took her eyes off of where he'd disappeared.

When he returned, he had a heavy leather trench coat with him, and he picked it up, weighing it out before he lunged. The kicks K tried to hit him with really didn't do her any good as he pressed her back almost flat and wrapped her up with the coat. "Not lettin' you pull that one twice, girly." A moment later, he'd tossed her over his shoulder and then simply hefted Clint up by his ropes. "Walk along, or I'll have to crack your little head, boy."

Clint glared up at him but still stood close by. "Put her down," he said with as much fire as he could muster, even though he was almost shaking.

"Not gonna happen, pipsqueak."

"Cause you're  _scared_ of her," Clint said. "Cause she can hit you back."

Creed smirked. "She's not hittin anyone now, is she?"

Clint bit his lip and swallowed. "Just… just leave her alone," he muttered.

"Last chance, kid. You gonna make this easy on yourself, or am I givin' you a concussion?"

Clint took a slight step back, purely unconsciously, and swallowed convulsively. "I ... okay," he said quietly.

" _Run_ ," K hissed as she tried to get Creed to drop her — but neither of those things was going to happen. Instead, the three of them headed out through a different passageway — one that had apparently connected the basement of the house to an old tunnel that led well away from where the X-men were staging to intervene.

They'd gone quite a way into the darkness before Creed dropped K to the ground and then took a moment to cover both of their mouths with duct tape. "No plottin' and plannin' now," he said as he started toward the grate to remove that little obstacle.

Clint was really starting to think they were in the worst trouble he'd ever been in as he scooted closer to K, his eyes wide. He couldn't even sign to her, and that was somehow making it worse — the fact that he couldn't talk to his mom.

She shifted as much as she was able — and considering that Creed had really only  _tightly_ wrapped her legs with the coat, it took a little work for her to twist herself into a position that she could straighten her arm out and let out a tiny bit of one claw ... and then move so that Clint could see it.

Clint glanced toward Creed, who wasn't looking their way, and then back at his mom and nodded quietly, crouching down beside her so that she was able to cut through the ropes around his hands. And once those were free, he glanced toward Creed again, and his hand went to the knife Logan had given him. It was in his back pocket; he took it with him everywhere, because he knew how important it was, and because he knew it was  _special_.

He flipped the blade out carefully and met K's gaze before he gave her a small smile with just his eyes, trying to show her that it was going to be okay and that he knew what to do. He waited for Creed to turn back around before he tossed the knife — just like he had practiced — right into the guy's heart.

And like Logan had said — as soon as the knife went in to the hilt, the hilt seemed to just … clatter to the ground. And so did Creed, for that matter, swearing as he clutched at his chest. It was clear that the knife had done him some real damage — at least enough to buy the two of them some time.

Clint took the opportunity to rush over to K and do what he could to help her get free — and once she was halfway out of the coat, she was able to handle the rest of it with her claws. Then, it was a matter of the duct tape, which hurt when they tore it off, but it was nice to be able to talk to each other again.

"Get out of here," K told him just before she darted toward Creed, cutting the tendons at the back of his legs so he couldn't  _chase_ them — giving Clint even more of a chance to get  _gone_.

Clint didn't need any more prompting than that, dashing away from the fight as fast as he could, though he had barely gotten around the corner before he saw Logan, Jean, and Storm. The three X-Men had taken longer than they would have liked to find their missing friends, but between Logan's tracking and Jean reaching out telepathically, they had found the fight — and were all itching to make Creed pay.

"He's got — Mom's fighting him—" Clint panted, though before he could say anything further, Jean had simply thrown out a hand, and he looked back around the corner to see that Creed was flying fast — in the opposite direction of K.

Logan looked up but didn't say a word before he ran down the way Clint had come from — and it was easy enough to hear what was going on once he got there when Creed's angry roar positively echoed the tunnel.

In the meantime, Storm took a moment to pull Clint into a long hug, and with the whole group of people there, Clint found himself halfway hiding in Storm's hug. He didn't want anyone to see that he was crying, and he didn't  _want_ to cry, but it was all he could do to put on a trembling almost-brave face until K arrived. And once she was there, Clint switched gears and positively clutched onto her, finally starting to fall apart very quietly into her shoulder.

He stayed there for a while, but when he heard a new sound from the fight beyond them, he did peek over K's shoulder to see that Jean had... lost her temper.

From Clint's point of view, it really didn't look like much, since he couldn't see what Jean was doing, but whatever she did, it left Creed unconscious — though Jean still looked furious even after Creed was crumpled.

Clint rubbed a hand over his eyes and then scrubbed his nose on the back of his hand as well. "He… he's not getting up," he whispered to K.

"Doesn't look like it," she said, though she looked pretty worked over too, and Clint had to wonder just how badly Creed had hurt her if it was still showing.

Clint buried his face in her shoulder again. "I wanna go. Please," he whispered to her so quietly that she was the only one who caught it.

K didn't even respond outside of simply ushering him out and keeping him close. Not until they were in the sunlight and well away from the mess underground. She stopped and turned to him to take a hold of him — one hand on either side of his face. "Are you okay?"

Clint swallowed a few times and then tried to give her a shaky kind of smile. "Uh-huh. Yeah. I'm okay," he lied — because he didn't want his mom to be scared.

She tipped her head at him and shook her head. "You sure? Because I'm not."

He nodded. "He hurt you," he said.

"He hurt you too," K replied.

Clint sniffed quietly and nodded, trying very hard not to cry, though that was a long since lost cause.  _I was scared,_ he admitted, signing it so no one else heard.

K wrapped him up tightly and simply stayed right there until Jean and Storm came up behind them.  _You were very brave_ , K signed back to him finally.

Clint gave her another shaky smile.  _Logan gave me that knife,_ he said.

_I'm glad he did._

_Me too. He said it would hurt that guy, and it did,_ Clint said, glancing up at the other two women and quickly scrubbing his face with his sleeve — embarrassed at being caught crying.

K straightened up and looked at the two newcomers. "You shouldn't even be here," she said to Jean.

Jean shook her head. "I wasn't going to let him get away with hurting either of you."

"Not what I meant, and he wasn't getting away," K said.

"Not with as many people as he had angry at him," Storm said, shaking her head lightly — and politely pretending for Clint's sake that she hadn't noticed him crying, which he appreciated.

"What did you do to Victor?" K asked Jean. "And how … long lasting is it?"

Jean let out a sigh and looked properly ashamed of herself. "I … I lost my temper," she admitted. "I gave him a psychic blast that…" She let out another sigh. "Well, it would have killed some people with lower defenses. I don't… normally do that, but I couldn't..."

K raised both eyebrows at her. "Did you give him a psychic lobotomy, Mrs. Summers?"

Jean let her shoulders drop. "Well… that's one way to put it…"

K let out a little noise and shook her head. "Then that was a mistake. You know Logan won't kill him if he's a doorstop."

"It's… it's not permanent, I don't think… not for  _him_ , anyway. He'll heal…" All of Jean's excuses fell short, and she shook her head. "I… lost my temper."

"You said that," K said.

Jean bit her lip and glanced toward Clint before she projected to K,  _It's just that when I heard how scared Clint was… saw the memories he was fixated on… I couldn't…_

 _You're hormonal_ , K projected back.  _No jury would convict you. Right now._

 _That's not a good defense,_ Jean said, shaking her head.  _I'm not even due to start a cycle for a few days..._

 _It is a great defense in your case. And for the next few months anyhow,_  K replied giving her a very pointed look.

That got Jean to stop outright and blink at K several times over. "I… what?" she said, sounding almost dazed even though she was clearly starting to smile.

K very discreetly tapped the side of her nose as she shifted back to pulling Clint closer, though she didn't outright say anything, either.

Jean's smile only seemed to widen, and by the time Logan caught up to the rest of them, she was positively  _grinning_ to herself and trying very hard not to, considering how heavy the situation had been up until that moment.

"SHIELD's on the way to pick up the garbage," Logan said as he made his way over to K and Clint. "Nice shot, kiddo. Looks like I need to get you another one."

Clint finally picked his head up from K and then gave Logan a shaky sort of smile. "Just like you said," he said quietly. "It broke off, and it stopped him."

Logan nodded. "I've been hit a few times with that. It's not nice at all."

Clint nodded. "And then Mom hit him. 'Cause we're a good team."

"She started taking him apart," Logan said before he smirked at both of them. "Coulda been a surgeon."

Clint nodded. "Mom's real smart," he agreed, still holding onto her pretty tightly.

"How about a pizza?" K offered. "We can get away from everyone and just … be quiet."

Clint nodded his agreement. "And… and ice cream?" he asked. "Or do we not get ice cream if  _Jean's_ the one that put him on the ground for good?"

"Well, she definitely gets ice cream," K said flatly.

Clint nodded and smiled up at Jean. "It's a rule. If you beat a bad guy, you get ice cream," he explained.

K looked over Clint's head at Jean and winked at her. "Yeah. So … go wild. Find some odd combination in celebration."

"Don't think I won't," Jean said, still unable to control her smile.

"Just make sure you bring some to Scott," Logan said. "I'm sure he'll be sympathetic."

Clint rolled his eyes at Logan. "Okay, but he wasn't even here — so he only gets ice cream 'cause Jean's married to him."

"That's how Scott gets most of the stuff he does," Logan laughed, which of course, Jean had to hit him for.

Clint couldn't help but smile at their antics. "But — but they can have ice cream just them, because I just wanna stick with you," he told K seriously.

K nodded at that. "Alright. We can go clean up and figure it out, okay?"

"Okay," Clint agreed, sticking close to K as they headed back to the jet.


	14. Therapy Via Acrobat (Not Via Charlie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all the horrible that happened in the previous chapter, Clint is understandably still shaken up, and Charles is worried about him. But Clint doesn't want Charles anywhere near him.

 

* * *

 

Once K and Clint were all cleaned up — washed several times over and dressed in clean clothes — they took a few movies up to their room. They had popcorn, and Sicem was more than happy to climb up and curl up on Clint's feet as the movie started up, though the dog had spent a solid five minutes whining and licking Clint's face before he could get fully settled in. Sicem had an excellent sense of when Clint was upset, and it was clear he was trying to help.

They were almost through the first movie when Logan came in, obviously freshly washed up and redressed as well — and carting a couple of pizzas and a brown bag that he tossed to Clint when he passed him by. He didn't say much as he looked both of them over and sat down on K's opposite side, waiting to see if either of them needed anything before he got too comfortable.

Clint, for his part, peered into the brown bag and had to grin when he saw that Logan had brought him some chocolate bars. He pulled out a few and glanced over at K before he went ahead and unwrapped one to eat before the pizza, curling a little more into her side — though he did shoot a "thanks, Logan" over the top of her stomach from where he was tucked in.

Logan didn't respond more than to smirk at him and then lean back with a sigh, not wanting to wreck the kid's moment while he was obviously pretty content where he was.

The three of them stayed fairly curled up together, though by the end of the second movie, Clint was starting to drift off, and his eyes had shut a few times before the end of the movie. When K turned the TV off, Clint let out a little sigh and shifted so that he was more or less falling asleep in her lap.

"I'm glad we live here, Mom," he said quietly.

"Yeah," she agreed as she ran a hand through his hair. "Good company."

"Yeah," he said. He glanced up at her for a moment and then smirked tiredly. "And Jean's  _almost_ as scary as you."

"Oh, she's positively terrifying right now. But me?" she said, shaking her head with a put-on frown. "Nope."

Clint smirked at that and then pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. "Okay, Mom. You can think that, I guess," he said in a yawn.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," she said with a smirk.

Even though Clint had fallen asleep — from pure exhaustion — it was clear Logan wasn't leaving the two of them alone, either. K settled in, using Logan as a solid spot to lean and once it was clear that Clint was soundly asleep, she tossed a blanket over herself and Logan, then invited Sicem up to lay on Clint's legs. Not one of them intended to move for a good, long time.

* * *

The next morning, Clint was more subdued than the residents of Xavier's were used to seeing from him. Sicem stayed close by, and Clint would still sneak his good friend bits of his meal. But he was mostly just sticking to himself, even turning down Jean's offer of playing darts — which had her honestly worried about him, since he usually relished the chance to wipe the floor with any of the adults.

They all knew that he couldn't be handling it well — not that any seven-year-old could be expected to handle being kidnapped by Sabretooth well, of course.

But for all their concern, the staff at Xavier's weren't entirely sure what to do with Clint — though he seemed content to either stay attached to K or Sicem. And after breakfast, he just headed outside to play with Sicem, away from anyone else, and not coming in until he was tired enough that he really needed to lie down away from the heat and get something to eat.

"Clint," Charles said as he finally found Clint tucked away. "You've been hard to find today."

Clint glanced up at him for a moment and then went back to spoiling Sicem. "Yeah," he said quietly.

"I have to admit, I was worried with everything that Ororo told me," Charles continued. "I know it had to be hard, not only going through that — but having to watch out for your mother as well. Is she alright? I haven't seen much of her either."

Clint glanced up with an obvious look of concern and bit his lip. "She's with Logan," he said at last. "I know she was real mad."

"At Sabretooth," Charles said, nodding. "I'm sure she was."

"She gets mad at anyone like that," Clint said. "Anyone who hurts kids, she'll just beat 'em up." He shrugged lightly and looked back down at Sicem.

"You're more important to her than just any kid," Charles pointed out.

Clint nodded and then scrunched up his shoulders. "I wasn't trying to get her in trouble," he muttered. "It just happened, and he hurt her because of me."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Charles said warmly. "He was going after her anyhow. I'm just sorry he used you to get to her. We'll do all we can to stop that from happening again."

"Yeah, okay," Clint said, though his tone screamed that he didn't exactly believe that.

"Clint, we can stop him," Charles insisted. "He's particularly wary of Jean and Scott."

A slight smirk touched Clint's expression. "Like a bull? Scareda red?" l

Charles couldn't help but laugh. "Something like that, yes," he said, smiling in spite of the serious conversation. "And Scott has blasted him out of sight on many occasions."

"Good, 'cause no one wants to look at him," Clint said with a sniff.

Charles smiled warmer at that and then reached out to rest his hand on Clint's arm, though as soon as he did, the entire tenor of the conversation shifted, and Clint positively froze before he yanked his arm away and positively  _ran_ as fast as he could, with Sicem not far behind trying to keep up.

* * *

Logan and K were working on the bike — though the insistence for 'please' wasn't being upheld  _quite_ as much as the last time — when Clint came tearing around the corner and all but attached to Logan's side, halfway hiding underneath Logan's arm and clutched on tight.

"Woah," Logan almost breathed out before he rested his arm across Clint's back. "What happened, bud?"

Clint buried his face in Logan's side before he muttered out a little, "It's okay. I'm okay."

"'Course you are," Logan agreed, though he didn't lift his arm up at all.

Clint stayed right there for a long while, even when Sicem joined them, before he finally relaxed his grip a bit and sniffed. "Sorry," he muttered as he took a step back, scrubbing a hand over his nose.

"What for?" Logan asked with a little frown. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I … you were doin' stuff," Clint said.

"I don't mind," Logan replied. "And your mom was makin' sure I wasn't getting much done already."

Clint nodded again before he looked over to where K was and settled his shoulders. "Oh. Um. Charles is looking for you 'cause he's all worried about yesterday," he said.

"Typical," K said with an easy shrug. "He can find me if he wants to. Maybe. If I let him."

"Nobody can find you if you don't want 'em to," Clint said with a nod.

"As it should be," Logan agreed.

Clint nodded and then stepped back from Logan and scratched Sicem behind the ears. "You guys can just… yeah," he said, obviously embarrassed.

"Wanna help?" K asked with a little smile. "Always room for another grease monkey."

"Okay, yeah. I'm good with my hands," Clint agreed.

K got up from where she was seated and handed Clint the wrenches she was keeping from Logan. "You two have fun. I'll go see what's got Charlie's hair on fire."

Clint waved at her as she headed out, and thankfully, Logan didn't try to press him on anything — just told him what tools he needed and showed him what he was doing.

K, on the other hand, marched right up to Charles in his office and put her hands on her hips. "What the hell? You can't possibly … what happened?"

Charles held up both hands in a peaceful gesture. "We were only talking. He's concerned about you, and of course I'm concerned about how he's taking the whole affair. He simply ran as soon as I made any contact with him — but I assure you, he was doing well before then. Cracking jokes, even, as we're used to seeing."

"He always cracks jokes," K pointed out. "Especially when he's trying to deflect. Or do I need to tell you how that works?" She held up a hand and turned her head to the side. "Nevermind. I'm sure there's not a pattern here that a trained person could figure out."

"I know when you both arrived here that he had issues trusting people, but he's adjusted wonderfully since that time," Charles said evenly. "Just look at the progress he's made with Logan."

"You are surprisingly  _bad_ at this," K said, frowning hard at him. "Logan's put in the time. And the effort." She looked around the room and took the seat nearest him. "He's got issues with men. You have to see that. He was doing well,  _yes._  But then the actual embodiment of every jackass in the world materialized and snatched him — and alluded to the fact that the big creep thinks he's his dad. Connect the freakin' dots, doc."

"Thus my concern," Charles replied. He shook his head. "I only want to be sure that he's dealing with what happened, and I wanted to be sure there was no further trauma. There was no indication before he ran away; he was at least talking to me, which is far better than what he's done for the rest of the mansion. And you know he can't just isolate — not with how social the boy is."

"He's with Logan," K said. "The one person on the planet that Creed openly and absolutely hates. So. Go figure that logic out. Or don't. I can draw you a flowchart if it helps matters."

But at that, Charles actually started to smile. "And what was Logan's reaction?" he asked, genuinely curious.

K stopped and turned his way slowly, tipping her head up as she openly looked him over. "That would fall into not your business. Ask Logan."

"I'm simply pleased that you and Clint have found him and made him part of your lives," Charles said calmly.

"Put that into the checklist of things I'm not looking for approval over," she said as she started to walk off. "Give Clint some  _space_."

"Believe me, K — I have no desire to do anything that would set him back," Charles promised.

"Good," she replied. "Because in spite of everything that's flipped him out in the past couple of days, he likes it here. It's pretty easy to see."

"And you must see how loved he is here as well," Charles said.

"I do," she agreed. "But if it comes down to hurting everyone's feelings or getting him to safety? Well. It's been nice knowing you."

"No one would expect anything different," Charles assured her. "We know how you both are protective of each other, and we know how rare and important it is."

"Common, human decency isn't rare," she argued. "You're just looking in the wrong places."

"Perhaps," Charles said. "But second chances at loving families are."

"Maybe work on fixing  _that_ ," she said.

Charles let out a long and weary sigh. "I truly am sorry that I startled him."

"Well, the next time you get the chance to talk to him — just talk. Let him initiate contact," she said. "Like any grad student has learned to do with any traumatized person."

"Of course," Charles said, sounding more weary still.

K didn't respond beyond that as she made her way back toward the garage, though once she was away from Charles, she did slow down a bit, weighing out everything she knew from the intel that Scott had shown her earlier on everything they  _thought_ Creed was up to. And considering all of the risks that place in Westchester had, she couldn't help but start to mentally plot out a new exit strategy. Which would have been a lot easier if she still had her truck.

When she got to the garage though, she wasn't surprised at all to find that Logan and Clint were still working on the bike. "Haven't you two changed the pipes yet?" she asked, pulling together a smile.

Clint shook his head, giving her a smile that let her know he was at least feeling a little better. "Not yet. Logan says we'll do that next," he said. "You got good timing, like always."

"Have you been making him say please for all the tools?" K had to tease.

Clint pulled a face. "No, Mom. That's  _your_ game, and I'm not after kisses."

She leaned over and kissed his temple. "Are you sure?"

He grinned. "Okay, well… not from him anyway," he amended.

Logan chuckled at that as K pulled up a seat next to Clint. "Always have to make exceptions to your rule .."

"Just for Mom," Clint said.

"Well if it's just for me, you don't have to amend it."

Clint shrugged. "Sure I do. You're my mom."

She put her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in for another quick kiss on the temple — and a solid bear hug. "You're the best little troublemaker around."

"Not little much longer," Clint said with a smile as he clutched her in the hug. "I'm almost as tall as you. Jean says if I keep growing so fast, I'm gonna be taller than anybody, even Scott!"

"Oh, like it's hard to be taller than me," she scoffed. "Scott though … you might want an apple crate."

"I was pretty short when you met me," he pointed out. "And now…"

"You were a little bitty snot-nosed kid," she said. "Now you're not."

"Nope," he agreed, then glanced between them. "So I was kinda thinking maybe since I'm not too little… I could learn more stuff like fighting and... I'm pretty good at shooting stuff?" It was obvious it was something he'd been thinking about for a long time from the way he hesitated over the request, obviously worried that they might turn him down. Not that it was hard to figure out what had prompted that particular request.

"I don't see why not," K said. "We're living at a school for now. Might as well learn something."

"Good," Clint said with one sharp nod. "I don't want to get grabbed again. And I'm real good at throwing knives and stuff, but I'd rather shoot someone, because I like bows more."

"Just a few years short of moving up to firearms," K said.

"I like my bow," Clint said. "It's got purple arrows."

"Still a good idea to know basic safety," Logan added as he wrenched off the old pipes. "If nothing else to be able to disarm. And it's fun."

"Yeah, I'll learn that," Clint agreed. "And more stuff with my pocketknife, right?"

"Pocketknife, sure," K said, nodding.

"I'll bet Kurt would fall over with a small heart attack if you told him you wanted to sword fight," Logan said in a very casual tone.

"Ooh,really?" Clint asked. "I want to see that!"

"The big, dramatic overreaction?" Logan asked with a laugh. "He does that for everything."

"But it's still fun," Clint said.

Logan looked up at the clock and frowned. "He's in a drama rehearsal right now. I can tell him we're supposed to be drinking, and he'll show up."

"Alright," Clint said with a crooked sort of almost-smile. "Or I could go get him. You don't gotta do anything."

Logan shook his head and wiped his hands off before he took out his phone and started on the text. "It's worth the show," he told Clint. "And it'll be a more dramatic reaction, I'm sure."

Clint was already laughing by the time Kurt teleported into the garage — which, considering how withdrawn he had been that morning, had Kurt raising an eyebrow.

"What … I thought you said we were supposed to be …" Kurt paused and glanced over at Clint for a moment. "What's going on?"

"Logan said you'd get here faster if he asked you," Clint said. "And he said you'd teach me how to use swords."

Kurt looked ready to deliver a snappy retort, but at the mention of swordplay, he paused and did an outright doubletake. "What?"

"Well, I wanna learn more about how to fight, and Mom's already teaching me about archery and knives, so are you gonna teach me about swords or what?" Clint asked, tipping his chin up.

Kurt's shock turned into an incredibly pleased-looking grin before he disappeared and then reappeared with all three of his swords. "When do we start?" he asked.

And at that, Clint simply burst out laughing, clutching his stomach and completely,  _totally_ thrilled with the whole thing.

"Toldja," Logan said as he shook his head at Kurt, which really only had Clint laughing harder.


	15. A Pirate and a Thief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which swordfighting continues to be the best possible therapy.

 

* * *

 

Clint absolutely  _loved_ his first lesson with Kurt. It was nothing like what little he'd seen of Jacques and Barney learning together — or even Miranda and Barney. Kurt talked about swords like he was looking for a way to make even more trouble just by  _talking_ about them, and Clint really liked his outlook.

He wasn't surprised at all that the lesson had started out with safety basics, making sure that Clint knew how to handle the sword… but hey, that had been true of all his weapons classes.

But after that, Kurt showed him a few basics — thrusts and parries and basic forms — before at the very end of the lesson, Kurt offered to show off. And Clint knew that he was an acrobat and  _needed_ to show off, so he agreed and ended up  _loving_ the Danger Room simulation that Kurt pulled up.

It was all pirates and high seas, and even though Clint wasn't fighting as much because he was watching Kurt do the fighting, he did get to hang out in the crow's nest.

"Can we do one with me fighting pirates that are my skill level next time too?" Clint asked. "I mean… maybe not next time. Maybe if I'm better at fighting ... maybe when I  _can_ fight and not just swing the swords around, right?"

"Oh, certainly," Kurt agreed. "There's no sense in just practicing form. You need to actually use it."

Clint smiled at that. "That's not what my brother's teachers say," he said. "They say form is most important… but they're performers…"

"Well," Kurt said low. "It  _is_ , but … sometimes, you have to sacrifice form to get the job done too."

"You mean sometimes you gotta fight dirty," Clint said with a crooked grin. "I already know how to do  _that_."

"Yes, of course," Kurt laughed. "But don't bring up dirty swords with Logan. Dirty tricks, sure. Dirty swords? Never."

"But he said he  _wanted_ me to learn dirty stuff," Clint said with his nose wrinkled up. "Cuz I'm so little."

"And he sent you to me for sword work," Kurt said, smiling.

"Well, yeah, because you do, like  _three_  and that's a  _lot_ ," Clint said, smiling to match him.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to learn his style instead, though," Kurt said.

"I don't got knives in my hands, Kurt; I can't learn that."

Kurt burst out laughing at that. "No, he's a samurai — didn't he tell you that?"

Clint stopped outright to stare at Kurt. "You're  _kidding me_."

"No! He went through all the training when he lived in Japan years and years ago."

"No way!" Clint grinned at him. "I wanna see that! I wanna know that stuff too and — and  _how come he didn't tell me that?_ "

"He didn't tell us at first either," Kurt admitted. "But his swords are upstairs …"

"I wanna see!"

Kurt laughed at that and nodded. "He holds the honor sword for clan Yashida still — they're the second most powerful family in Japan — just after the Emperor."

"Oh wow," Clint said, his eyes wide. "Oh  _wow_."

Kurt grinned and offered Clint his hand. "Shall we go see what he's up to?"

"Yes, let's!" Clint agreed, grabbing Kurt's hand and unable to stop the slight bounce of excitement.

Of course, Logan was up in the garage, working on his bike with the radio going and a beer within reach as he changed the oil this time. "You two on a field trip?" Logan asked without looking their way.

"You never told me you were a  _samurai_!" Clint blurted out.

"You didn't ask," Logan said without missing a beat.

"How was I gonna know I needed to ask about something like that?" Clint said. "That is  _so cool!_ "

Logan shrugged. "Just is what it is," he said. "Didn't think anyone cared about that kind of thing. Not as flashy as some of the stuff Kurt does."

"You're a  _samurai_ , though," Clint said. "A real live samurai!"

"Not what you were expectin' huh?" Logan asked, peeking up at him as he pushed back from the bike.

"Well, no, but still." Clint grinned at him. "I wanna see — I didn't know you knew that stuff!"

"When it comes to weapons and fighting, I know just about all there is to know," Logan replied.

"That is really, really cool," Clint said.

Logan headed over to the sink in the garage and started to wash up. "You said you wanted to see. What … what'd you have in mind?"

"Well, Kurt said you got samurai swords and stuff…"

"I do, but they're not ... " He looked up at Kurt. "You're not supposed to unsheathe 'em unless you're gonna use 'em."

Clint let out a sigh. "Okay, I  _guess_ I can wait and see 'em when we're fighting bad guys or something," he said.

"Oh, come on, Logan," Kurt said with a smile. "If you have to use them, why not use them to show him a few moves, then?"

"Aren't you teachin' him?" Logan asked as Kurt made his way closer with Clint and then simply teleported them up to Logan's room.

"Ah, but I like to share my pupils," Kurt laughed. "Let them see the world…."

Clint looked around the room — at the neatly kept and immaculate setup and at the swords hanging on the wall. None of it was what he was expecting, but he brushed past the room itself to look wide-eyed at the far wall. "Is that a samurai sword?"

Logan let out a sigh. "All of them are," Logan said as he gestured to the matched set of three — all of them with blue silk wrapped around the hilt, though the fourth one looked entirely different, with red silk and gold chrysanthemum inlay that seemed to glow even in the lower light of in the room.

"They look really…  _nice_ ," Clint said.

Logan looked over to Kurt, who was clearly encouraging it, before he made his way to the set of three and pulled down the katana there. He only drew it back a few inches so Clint could see part of the blade. "It's about 800 years old. Still sharp as a razor."

"Oh  _wow_ ," Clint breathed out.

"The other one is older."

"Older than  _eight hundred years?_ " Clint asked, looking like his head might explode.

Logan nodded at that as he put the sword in his hands back where it belonged. "That's the Yashida honor sword. Passed down from one samurai to the next since the beginning of the family."

"That sounds like something out of a book," Clint said.

"It is," Logan agreed. "But it doesn't change what it is."

Clint nodded quietly, still staring up in awe at Logan and the swords before he simply started to grin and drew his shoulders up. "You're really cool, you know that?"

"You're easily impressed," Logan replied with one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, okay, but I'm right," Clint said, not about to be deterred.

"Yes, yes you are," Kurt chuckled.

Logan shook his head with a little laugh. "So, is this what the lesson was today?"

Clint shook his head. "No, we learned safety, and we learned some basic forms — you wanna see?" he offered, clearly excited to show off.

"Sure," Logan said.

With that, Clint simply seized both of them, letting Kurt teleport them down to the Danger Room so Clint could show off.

* * *

For the next several days, it was clear that everyone in the institute was in much better moods — helped along by the fact that there was now an almost daily dose of a  _delighted_ , laughing Clint, usually running around with Sicem playing pirates, spurred on by Kurt, Kitty, Jubilee… really, anyone who was there to play along. Mostly Kurt, though.

But there was something else for the group to grin over after Scott and Jean got the official word from Hank — and really, Jean couldn't wait any longer than that before she started to share the news with those in the mansion who didn't have the advantage of cheating with enhanced senses.

Storm insisted on taking Jean and several of the other ladies of the X-Men out for a celebration, which left the men at the institute to get Scott drunk too, just because, as Kurt insisted, "it's tradition."

Clint had been a little nervous when he heard what the plans were, but when he heard how much  _laughter_ was going on down in the game room, he couldn't help but get curious enough to poke his head in — to find that everyone there was joking around and having a good time. Bobby and Hank were on either side of Scott goading him into more drinking, and Scott was grinning wider than Clint had ever seen him grin. Ever.

And there was a game of pool going on that Kurt was losing terribly to Logan. And Remy and Piotr were clearly trading money over some bet or another. It was much more boisterous and  _fun_ than Clint had expected, and he found himself cautiously peeking in a little more to see the show.

By that time, Kurt had admitted defeat — and had gone to go get more whiskey for himself and Logan — but Clint climbed up to sit close by where Logan was. Charles was close by watching the whole thing, and Clint gave him a little wave but didn't sit by him, doing more or less the same thing Charles was doing and taking it all in. He couldn't help but smile, almost disbelievingly, because he was so shocked by just how much these guys were grinning and  _laughing_  and even though the smell of alcohol was strong enough it had Clint nervous… no one there was getting upset. Not even when Logan wiped the floor with anyone playing him in pool.

"Wanna beat a few of these guys?" Logan asked Clint as he leaned against the back of the couch. "Even if you've never played, you'd cream 'em."

"That's 'cause they're drunk," Clint pointed out.

"So make it fair and do it with your eyes closed," Logan chuckled.

Clint grinned and shook his head. "Well… I'm not really tall enough to play," he said. "Maybe if I get another growth spurt. Mom says I'm due 'cause I been tripping a lot."

"It's alright," Bobby called out happily over Scott's shoulder, where they were still encouraging more drinking. "Logan's not tall enough to play either!" he added, which just had Scott bursting out laughing, hard enough that Bobby couldn't hold him up with how much he was leaning on him.

Logan shook his head at that though. "Gonna get it, popsicle."

"For being right?"

"I'd like to see you try original now and again," Logan said as he set up the next game.

Bobby snerked at that, though he was still helpful enough to ice up a step stool for Clint if he needed it. "There ya go. Shark him, Clint!"

Clint smiled as he climbed up so he could see the setup. "Okay, so… so this is kinda like… like aiming. I seen you and Kurt play it, but I don't know how you get points and stuff."

"It's just angles," Logan said. "Don't worry about the points to start with. Just play stripes or solids and try to clear your half first. Don't sink the eight ball."

Clint nodded, then glanced up at where the others were still laughing over something. "I don't think I ever seen Scott laugh like that," he said as Logan handed him a cue.

"That's because you've never seen him relax before," Logan said dryly.

"Well, I'm glad he and Jean are gonna have a baby," he said in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah, why's that?" Logan asked, chalking up his cue.

"Well, then Jean'll have somebody else to gush all over, and she won't be all gooey over just me all the time, so I might get some time to  _myself_ ," Clint said with a shrug.

Logan chuckled at that and nodded. "Not a bad reason."

Clint grinned. "She needs babies, Logan. Real bad. She's — she's like those ladies — those foster moms that everyone  _wanted_ to get because you could tell they wanted kids  _so_ bad."

"She was circlin' you pretty hard, wasn't she?" Logan said with a smirk.

Clint rolled his eyes. "I betcha if I hadn't come in with my mom, she'd'a tried to put her name on me."

"In a heartbeat," Logan agreed before he tipped his head toward Scott. "Then he'd be your new Dad. Goofy thing."

Clint stuck his tongue out. "Nah, that's okay. I like having just me and my mom. He's already like this with just the one kid, and I got a  _brother_."

"Yeah, he'd be way too sappy on the two of you," Logan said.

Clint shrugged. "Well, their baby'll like it 'cause it'll be  _theirs_ , so you know… whatever."

"And it won't know any better," Logan said where he knew Clint could read his lips.

Clint snorted at that and nodded. He waited for Logan to break, since he wanted to see it done, and he was quiet for a bit as he focused on trying to play, but once he had the hang of it, he looked up to see that Remy and Kurt were trading money. "You can't bet on me an' Logan — it's my  _first game_!" he protested.

"Das why we bettin'," Remy said. "Beginner's luck somet'in' powerful."

Clint rolled his eyes at that. "Nuh-uh. You win because you work hard. I ain't lucky."

" _Lacherlich_ ," Kurt said low and throaty. "You're  _very_ lucky."

"Well, I only got lucky with getting my mom — that's just one."

"You don't gotta talk with drunks, kiddo," Logan said, simply to incense the two men.

Clint grinned a little wider. "But I can play with 'em," he said. "I think I like this game," he added, as he lined up another shot.

"Yeah, just don't listen to anything they say," Logan laughed. "They don't know what they're talking about more often than not."

"Nonsense," Kurt scoffed. "And you can't talk — you've had more than both of us."

"Logan can't get drunk," Clint said in an easy tone.

Logan held his arms out and smirked. "Kid knows what the deal is, boys. Not my fault you're lightweights by my standards."

"Ain't nobody here that ain't a lightweight by  _that_ standard," Remy pointed out.

"Makin' me wanna go hit poker night at the tower," Logan said, shaking his head before he lit up a cigar. "Least someone there can keep up."

"But here is where the  _celebration_ is, Logan," Kurt laughed.

"Hey, Remy, come play me next," Clint called out, breaking up the teasing as Logan sank the last striped ball. "No blowing up the table when I win, got it?"

Logan let out a little snerk at that as he handed Remy the cue. "Good luck, swamp rat."

Of course, Remy tipped his nose up slightly and then smirked at Clint. "What you wanna shoot at? I'll let you pick."

"Solids," Clint said. "And I'll let you break."

Remy chuckled and set the balls up before he winked at Clint and pulled off a trick shot to break — and sank exactly one stripe in spite of the busy table.

Clint kept his expression neutral as Remy finished up before he stepped up to carefully measure out his shot. He was starting to draw a little bit of a crowd from the others, who stopped to watch the perfectly serious seven-year-old as he would narrow his eyes, line up the cue, and precisely tap every single shot where he wanted it to go.

He wasn't good enough for any trick shots, but that didn't exactly seem to matter. He had the aim, and he had the precision for the game, even if he did have to take a little longer with every shot as he would kick his step stool over to where he wanted it to be, climb up, and start the whole thing over.

But that was only entertaining the other X-Men more as they watched. Remy was swearing by halfway through Clint's turn as the little boy went around and around the table and then finally dusted his hands off and looked up at the Cajun. "That's why I letcha break," he said in a perfectly reasonable tone that quickly had Kurt absolutely falling apart laughing at the look on Remy's face.

Logan was smirking hard by the time the game was over. "That was beautiful."

"You two set this up," Remy argued, shaking his head between them. "Kid musta played before — ain't no way that was two games in!"

"It's an easy game," Clint argued. "All you gotta know how to do is  _aim_."

"Harsh," Logan laughed. "But true."

"So how much do you owe the kid, Remy?" Bobby laughed.

Clint grinned up at Remy. "Well, we didn't say, but…" He tipped his head to the side. "But you gotta gimme your card when I take Miss Storm shopping next time, 'cause she'll take it anyway so you might as well lemme have it."

"Is dat where ol Remy's cards disappeared to," he said in a low rumble. "I shoulda known … lil sneak t'ief."

"Uh-huh." Clint nodded. "She showed me some stuff for how to make it smoother when you pickpocket. So I don't tip nobody off 'cause I useta sometimes get caught."

"Why you wanna learn dat kinda ting?" Remy asked, frowning slightly. "An' why you go an' ask Miss Stormy when you could be askin' me?"

"Well, Miss Storm's my  _teacher_ ," Clint pointed out in a tone that said it should have been obvious. "And I already knew how to steal — she just taught me to steal  _better_."

"Well who you t'ink taught her, hmm?"

"Oh, is that why she steals from you?" Clint asked.

Bobby laughed outright at that. "Oh yeah. Student surpasses the master or whatever."

Clint grinned and hopped down from his step stool to give Bobby a high-five. "Thanks for the stool, by the way. One day I won't need it and I can smoke people without help."

"Sure will," Bobby laughed.

Scott was half hanging off of Hank by that point as he laughed. "Been here a little over a month and he's got the team working for him," he muttered to Hank in between laughs. "Just think how it's gonna be  _raising_ the little ones around here."

"I'm sure we will all rise to the challenge," Hank smirked. "But I think it might be best if we break this up before anyone ends up on the floor."

"Spoilsport," Logan grumbled.

"That's okay," Clint said, leaning over the table to grin at Logan. "You an' me an' my mom can still hang out, 'cause you guys don't get drunk, and  _I'm_ not tired."

Logan barely raised an eyebrow at that, though it was a definite switch from how things had been with Clint just a week or two before. "As long as she's up for it, sure," he said. "Lead the way."


	16. The Intentions Talk Goes Both Ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint goes camping with Logan's girls, and Logan takes the opportunity to get a little closer to K.

 

* * *

 

With summer in full swing and everyone in such a great mood, Scott had organized a camping trip for some of the kids at the school — not anything too big, just a camping setup out on the grounds. Clint, of course, thought it was a great idea, since he was starting to miss camping with his mom — though K wasn't chaperoning the trip, instead leaving the staff to it.

Which meant that Clint found himself with Jubilee and Kitty electing themselves as temporary babysitters — though he had a feeling it was more because they were real attached to Logan and he was kinda eating a lot of Logan's time learning how to fight Creed, so they mighta been a little jealous.

Still, the girls were  _great_ with Sicem, so Clint wasn't going to complain.

"D'you go camping a lot, or is this just because Scott's in a good baby-mood?" Clint asked the girls as they headed out with the group for the camping trip.

"We go camping every summer," Kitty replied. "And … he's in a good baby-mood."

Clint nodded at that. "Yeah, I peeked on the party, and he was on the floor laughing, which was kinda weird."

Kitty and Jubilee shared a grin. "Yeah, that like … never happens," Jubilee said. "So you know... You spotted the red-eyed unicorn, dude."

Clint shrugged. "I just got here at the right time for the baby party," he said. He glanced between the two of them before he got a more troublemaking grin on. "And Logan showed me how to play pool, so I wiped the floor with Remy, and he didn't even see it coming."

"He showed you how to play pool too?" Jubilee asked. "What's next? Lending you cigars?"

Clint rolled his eyes at that. "No way. They smell horrible."

"And they  _hurt_ ," Kitty said. "Don't do that."

Clint's eyes went wide as he turned Kitty's way. "You get hurt, Kitty?" he asked seriously, his stance a familiar one that they had both seen when he was trying to look out for his mom.

Kitty shook her head quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong idea. "I … stole one of his cigars from him when he was smoking it once. I was mad. Didn't listen when he told me I wouldn't like it. I got half a puff in before I was coughing my guts out."

Clint relaxed a bit when he heard it. "Oh, well, that's your fault. Barney did that when he tried one'a Dad's cigarettes."

"He didn't even yell about it either," Kitty said, frowning at the memory. "Just … patted my back while I tried not to throw up."

"Yeah, he's real nice," Clint agreed. "Which is good, 'cause if he wasn't, I wouldn't let him  _near_ my mom."

"Yeah, about that," Jubilee said, sticking her finger his way. "What's her story anyhow? She's not too friendly, you know. And I don't let just  _anyone_ around my Wolvie."

Clint looked between the two girls and then broke into a grin. "Oooh, are you two gonna do the 'intentions' talk? I tried that with Logan, and he just kinda explained he can't get drunk and stuff."

"Yeah, but ... " Jubilee started, though Kitty cut her off.

"We just don't know her," Kitty said.

Clint shrugged. "I dunno what you wanna know," he said. "She's my mom. She beat up my foster dad for hitting me, and then we ran away together, and she's been mine ever since."

"She doesn't really fit the usual," Jubilee said with her nose up. "The last one was practically a princess."

Clint narrowed his eyes at her and sniffed. "Yeah? Well it don't matter what kinda money people got if they're stupid. It matters if you got a  _heart_ , not money."

"We thought she was okay," Kitty said. "They were supposed to get married, but that … didn't work out too good."

"Too bad for her," Clint said with a shrug. "But that doesn't have nothing to do with my mom."

"Well, what's she like when she's not shutting down the professor?" Kitty asked with a smile, knowing that Clint would at least be proud of that much.

Clint grinned. "She's real nice, honest," he said. "She taught me and my brother how to throw knives and shoot bows, and she took us to a tournament and — and she took me to a rodeo, and I won first place at the sheep riding stuff!" he gushed happily.

"You rode a sheep?"

"Uh-huh," he said, grinning wider. "You gotta hold on and not get thrown off, and then you get a prize and a belt and money — and I got a whole  _two hundred dollars,_ which is more money than I ever had ever!"

Jubilee had a look on her face, but Kitty shoved her in the shoulder. "Don't pay attention to her. She's from Beverly Hills."

"I'm from Iowa," Clint said with a shrug.

"Chicago," Kitty said. "But Jubes was loaded, so you know …"

Clint rolled his eyes at that. "Well, whatever. I got that money all on my own and I worked real hard and — and—"

"I think that's awesome," Kitty said.

"But sos you know," Jubilee said, crossing her arms again. "I made my own money after my parents died. I put on shows in the mall ... fireworks …"

"Oh, you'd get along with my brother then," Clint said nodding. "He works at a circus and makes his own money doing a weapons show."

"Are we going to get to meet him?" Jubilee asked.

"Well, he's on tour right now," Clint said. "But… me and my mom always are gonna see him at least for winter and holidays and stuff. He's got a birthday at the end of the summer." He grinned a little wider. "Mom gave him a cake and everything. We'd never had a cake for birthdays until this year!"

The two girls shared a quick glance. It was clear this wasn't quite going as they'd planned, especially when it was hard to keep up the hard line when it was so obvious Clint thought the world of his adoptive mother. "Well … that's really nice," Kitty said. "Maybe … maybe we should work on starting a fire so we can make our s'mores …"

"Oh, I'm not allowed to help with the fire," Clint said. "Mom said nothing flammable 'til I'm old enough to shoot guns."

Jubilee grinned and raised one hand, letting a few colorful sparks shoot off. "Good for us we don't even need matches!"

"Oooh, right," Clint said, nodding and smiling lightly. "I like living with all these people with powers."

"It does make some things easier," Kitty agreed. "Want to help me find more firewood while Jubes gets started?"

"Alright, yeah," Clint said, grinning up at her, and the girls couldn't help but enjoy themselves as they headed off with Clint. After all, even if they weren't sure about his mom or about her kissing Logan… they definitely liked  _him_.

* * *

"You're not chaperoning the camping trip?" K asked when she saw Logan make his way into the kitchen an hour after Scott had left with the kids.

"Hardly my idea of camping," Logan replied as he leaned against the counter, watching her make some lemonade. "Stuff I call campin' goes a lot further north and without all the equipment."

"Ah. I can relate to that," she agreed, nodding. "So what are you planning to do with your free time with all the kids out and about?"

"Hadn't made any solid plans," Logan said. "What about you? Got somethin' planned with the girls?"

"No, definitely not," K said, shaking her head. "They're on a kick, and there is shopping — and I'm not one to shop in a crowd. I was going to just find a quiet spot here …"

He smirked crookedly at that. "Got anything against not bein' alone?"

"Depends on what you want to do." She tipped her chin up and smirked right back at him.

"I know you watch a lot of movies with Clint …"

"So …"

"We could put one on and  _not_ watch it." Logan's expression wasn't nearly as troublemaking as he was suggesting, though.

K paused and narrowed her eyes slightly. " _Bold_. Direct."

"No reason not to be."

"Let's get a drink or two and see where it goes," K suggested. "Maybe swap a few stories before you get the wrong idea on how this will roll."

"You're not nearly as gunshy about booze as your boy is."

"I'm not afraid of some guy beating the crap out of me when he's drunk."

"Fair. Your room or mine?" Logan asked as he pushed off the cabinetry. "I'll grab the popcorn."

"Oh. Mine. Definitely," she said. "I'll grab something cold. Meet you there." She shook her head as she made her way over to find something the two of them could split — and didn't feel the least bit bad about heading out to the garage and taking a cold six pack before she headed up to her room.

Logan had beat her there and had gotten comfortable on the couch. When she got over to him, she handed him a beer, then sat down next to him — though after the first beer, the movie and the popcorn was more or less pushed to the side as they got a little closer acquainted.

* * *

After a weekend out camping, Clint was in a great mood headed back to the institute. Kitty and Jubilee were still sort of grilling him on his mom — but he had heard from them how they both met Logan and how much Logan meant to them, so he didn't mind  _so_ much.

Actually, he just wished he could explain his mom a little better, but he didn't know more than the year they had been together.

Still, they seemed to appreciate that she had taken him to DC for King Tut and that she would build snowmen with him and that she had Barney's circus schedule so that when the bad guys left them alone for a while they could go see a show…

He hoped that the girls were a little more okay with his mom now, because it hadn't occurred to him that Logan would have kids too that needed to okay a girlfriend for him, and he didn't want anyone not to like his mom or get in the way of her being happy.

Though… it was hard to keep that attitude up when he came bounding into the suite he had with his mom to find that she and Logan were all cozy and curled up together.

"Oh." He stopped. "Ummm… hi."

"Hi, sweetheart," K said, sounding a little smoky — obviously having spent a good chunk of the night up. "How was the camping trip?"

"It was good. Jubilee can start a fire without matches," Clint said, though he was staring at them both. "You been here this whole time?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Quieter that way."

Clint tipped his head to the side before he narrowed his eyes at Logan and then let out a sigh. "Well, Kitty and Jubilee are doing the whole intentions thingy — so you know."

"Did Jubes start the fire with her sparkles, or did she actually start it without matches?" Logan asked, brushing past that revelation and not sounding too concerned about it.

"With her sparkles," Clint said.

"Cheater," he said, shaking his head.

"Well, Scott says you're s'pposed to learn to use your powers, right? I thought that was the point?" Clint pointed out.

Logan nodded. "Yeah, but I think it's good to be able to do everything without too."

"Without cheating," Clint said. "Yeah, probably smart."

"Did you have breakfast yet?" K asked Clint, though she hadn't quite gotten  _up_ yet either.

Clint nodded. "Yeah, we made some stuff over the fire," he said. "But… but I can get some for you if you want it."

"Can you just check that there's coffee?" she asked, finally getting up enough to stretch out. "Meet you down there."

Clint nodded. "Will do," he promised, dashing off and trying not to think  _too_ hard about coming home to find Logan and his mom together like that.


	17. I Don't Want to Go to the Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which both Clint and Jean need to go to the doctor - for very different reasons.

 

* * *

At first, Clint thought that he was just feeling rotten because he didn't like how much time his mom was spending with Logan. He liked Logan okay, sure, but the two of them were together a lot more often, and Clint still didn't know how to react to it.

He gave Logan a little more space, not quite sure what to do with the guy who was spending nights with his mom, but after a few more days, it was becoming clear that he was feeling rotten because he'd also come down with a summer cold.

"Okay, your fever isn't backing off," K said at last when Clint simply didn't have the energy anymore to pretend he wasn't so sick he could hardly find a way out of his bed. "I think … it's time to go see the doc."

"I don't  _wanna_ go to the doctor," Clint whined, though he was fairly well wrapped up in blankets and feeling miserable enough that he knew it was an eventuality.

"Even if it's Hank?" K asked, crossing her arms.

"He's gonna give me a shot or something. Or — or something will be real wrong with me and—"

"If he gives you a shot, I'll slap him around," K promised. "And I just want to get you some better medicine so you can go  _shooting_ this weekend."

Clint frowned up at her from underneath his blankets. He had to admit that it was a good argument …  _and_ it would be nice to be able to hear better, because his ears were stuffed up along with his head and he was even worse at hearing than usual… which was, of course, exactly  _why_ he didn't want to go to the doctor.

But on the other hand, he didn't want his mom to think he was  _scared_ ….

"Fine," he muttered at last.

"If you can unwrap just a little bit and drop that fever, then we can bring up a bunch of movies and barricade ourselves up here," she pointed out as she waited for him to meet her at the door.

"Yeah, okay, that sounds real good," Clint admitted. He slowly pushed the covers back, making a face at how sticky and sweaty he was.

"So … how bad can it be?" K asked.

"I could be  _dying_ ," Clint said seriously. "You never know, Mom. I could have… I could have ma-malaria or whatever."

"That's curable," she said, waving it off.

"Or — or I could have, um…" He scrunched his nose up as he tried to think of other stuff he'd seen in movies. "I could have  _the plague_."

"Have you been cavorting with rats and fleas while you've been out inquisitioning?"

"I … I don't know what a lot of that even means," Clint said, giggling to himself.

"Well, Sicem doesn't have fleas, so the answer is 'no' anyhow," she said as she put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

Clint shrugged at that. "Then I probably just got the flu like Kitty said yesterday at lunch."

"Probably, but we'll leave that to Hank to figure out for sure," she said as they stepped into the elevator. "Unless you've become a medical doctor since the last time we spoke?"

"Umm, no. I still gotta go to college before I do stuff like that, remember? And I'm gonna be an archeologist!'

"I know, I know … but you sound so very sure of yourself and your self diagnoses of influenza."

"No, Mom, I said I got the flu," Clint said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm well aware," she said, shaking her head. "Flu is short for Influenza."

"Oh." Clint nodded thoughtfully. "Well, okay. That's what I got."

"Good thing it's not too bad this year," she said as they reached their floor and she steered him out of the elevator. "Now … go ahead and tell the nice Cookie Monster what's bothering you."

Hank looked up with a smile from what he was doing when he saw them making their way into his lab. "What brings the two of you here when it's such a fine day outside?"

"My whole head is heavy enough to be a bowling ball, so I ain't playing outside," Clint said, making a face.

"He thinks he knows what's wrong … I just need to see if you have anything to help him through it while we vegetate and watch action movies and comedies," K told him.

"I may just," Hank said, gesturing for Clint to take a seat so he could look him over. "And what malady do you believe you have been afflicted with?"

"I got the flu," Clint said with a shrug.

"But his second and third choices were malaria and the plague," K replied, arms crossed and smirking. "So it could be anything, really. Distemper …parvo ..."

Hank chuckled at that. "Well, I'm sure we can rule out the most dramatic options," he teased. "Unless you truly believe you're glimpsing the other side, in which case…"

"I was just being silly," Clint grumbled.

Hank smirked at that. "Yes, of course," he said. He took Clint through a basic examination, looking in his ears and throat and nodding to himself. "I wouldn't be surprised if you had a simple sinus infection, but I'd like to do a couple more tests, if that's alright with you."

"Your call, kiddo; I'm just the muscle," K said as she rested her hand on Clint's head.

Clint was wearing out by that time, his stuffy head tipped back. "I don't really care," he muttered. "I just wanna be done being sick."

"Of course," Hank said, patting Clint's arm. "Now… for one of these tests, I will need to prick your finger," he warned him.

"Whatever," Clint muttered, leaning tiredly back into the examination table.

Hank nodded at that and quickly got the small sample from Clint — sure to give him a purple bandage for his trouble, since it was common knowledge at that point what Clint's favorite color was. And it took next to no time before Hank had returned with some medicine to hand to K. "Give this to him every six hours; he should be able to breathe better by this afternoon," he said.

"You're wonderful, thanks," K said with a grateful smile as she reached for Clint's hand. "Ready to barricade?"

Clint nodded, still not feeling well and getting too tired to play anymore as he simply wrapped his arms around K's neck and let her pick him up off the table so they could head out.

It was just their luck that Jean was headed down to see Hank about that time as well — she and Scott were going to get a checkup on the little one. And the little noise that Jean let out seeing K and her tired little boy didn't sound like something that was completely conscious.

"Don't get too close," K advised as they passed. "We'll just isolate for the duration."

"I'm dying," Clint said in as dramatic a tone as he could manage.

"Nasty case of distemper," K said, nodding seriously.

Jean shook her head at both of them, though she couldn't stop the smile anyway. "Feel better, Clint," she said warmly.

"Have fun seeing your baby," Clint said tiredly.

"Yeah, congrats again, guys," K said before they headed off. They didn't even pick or tease in the elevator on the way up, and once they were back in the room, K gave him the first dose of the medicine and settled him out in front of the television. "I'm going to go get you some stuff to drink, and then if you want, I'll snuggle up and pet your duck fluff."

"Yes on the snuggling, but I don't really wanna be  _pet_ ," Clint said.

"It's an endearment thing," K said, smiling at him. "I like it."

Clint nodded tiredly and curled himself into the blankets, smiling a little when Sicem came to sit at his feet — though before K could even get him anything to drink, he was out like a light, completely worn out.

When she got back with a few drinks, she let out a little sigh on seeing him still curled up tightly and sleeping hard. She called Sicem off to lie on the floor and then slipped in between Clint and the corner of the couch. He automatically adjusted to more or less wrap around her middle when she settled in, and she did spend quite a bit of time just running her hand over his head, waiting for the fever to drop down a little bit.

When his fever finally broke, he seemed to be breathing a little easier — and sleeping deeper, which was what K was waiting for to settle in a little deeper into the couch. And with that, she leaned her head back and fell asleep herself.

* * *

Down in the lab, Hank had just finished confirming for Jean and Scott that everything looked just fine with the little one and was in an excellent mood — excited for his friends — as he sat down to look at the other tests that he had drawn up for Clint.

He had known, of course, that it was likely Clint had a sinus infection when he came in, simply by looking at his symptoms. But this was more a matter of curiosity than anything else. He had seen how quick Clint was to take up anything having to do with aim — darts, arrows, knives, even pool. And it had him honestly curious to see if there wasn't something else in play.

And of course, with his thoughts so preoccupied, he shouldn't have been surprised at all when Jean let out a delighted noise and clapped her hands together when she overheard his train of thought.

"Oh, wouldn't that be wonderful?" she asked. "Then we could start training him and teaching him all sorts of things… he would look  _amazing_ on the team…"

"I believe that you may be familiar with the term 'don't put the cart before the horse'," Hank said with a little chuckle.

Jean waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, come on. You'd love it too, and you know it."

"Oh, absolutely," Hank agreed. "But I'm simply running a few tests before picking out a uniform for him."

"Slightly more restraint than Jean has right now," Scott had to tease, just to get Jean to roll her eyes and smack him lightly in the shoulder.

Hank laughed. "I believe that can wait a moment, though, while we address your concerns and get  _your_ tests running."

"Oh, can't we run his first — and then we can have ours running while we go over the results?" Jean offered.

Hank couldn't help but smile at her, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "Who am I to argue that kind of sound logic?"

"Solid use of time," Scott said, not bothering to hold back his smirk, especially when Jean just laughed at him.

Hank quickly but carefully set up Clint's test to run while Jean got comfortable — and pulled out the tubes that Hank told her they'd need for her blood tests and a kit. "This won't take but a few moments to get going."

Jean nodded, clearly excited for  _both_ of the tests that Hank had going as she leaned against Scott. "Oh good. I'm not particularly patient today."

 _Just today?_ Scott teased, smirking even harder when Hank followed it up with the same sentiment.

"Yes, today as opposed to all the years I've known you," Hank said dryly.

Jean rolled her eyes and flicked both of them back a step just to let them know they'd annoyed her, but it didn't change the smirks both men were wearing. "Then you know I'm dying waiting for those tests, Hank," she pointed out.

"Oh yes, certainly seems terminal," Hank said as he had his eye to the microscope. "You'll just have to suffer through it while I perform a blood draw on you, Mrs. Summers." He looked up at her with a little smile as he set the machine to get computing and made his way over to Jean — taking the longest route possible and openly lollygagging on his way.

 _Why do you insist on doing this to me,_ Jean projected to him, giving him a look that was both exasperated and laughing at the same time.

 _Why, because I love you too, Mrs. Summers,_  Hank projected back.  _And patience is a virtue that you'd do well to learn more about._

 _Maybe later,_ she teased.

_Ah yes. Why do today what you can put off to do next week?_

_Or next year?_ She laughed out loud. "Come on, please?" she said, giving him her best pleading look. "For  _me_?"

He finally bounded over to her in two leaps, smiling her way. "Dirty pool, my dear." With that, Hank started up on her blood draw, informing her carefully about what each test he would run on her was for — and what it would tell him. "I'm afraid you're too early to give you a decent ultrasound, judging by your measure."

"Next time, then," Scott said, squeezing Jean's hand in his.

"Most definitely," Hank agreed. The three of them chatted for a while — and Hank answered all the questions that he was able to for Jean as she hit him in rapid fire. Until, of course, the machine across the lab dinged — signaling that the quick test that Hank had set up to check Clint for the X-Gene was finished.

Jean paused what she was doing and simply beamed at Hank. "Well?"

"Well … I should say something about doctor-patient confidentiality, but then you'd simply get impatient and pluck it from my mind," Hank teased as he made his way over to check the test. He was still smirking to himself when he looked it over, though it was clear by the expression on his face what the answer was.

Jean let out a breath of obvious disappointment. "Well ... that's alright," she said, straightening up slightly.

"Just means Remy will have to get used to losing to a kid with no powers he can blame it on," Scott pointed out, which got her to chuckle, at least.

"His ego will likely never recover," Hank agreed.

"Besides," Scott said as he offered Jean a hand up, "this doesn't change much anyway. Isn't the professor always saying the team's about protecting humanity  _and_ mutants?"

"Of course," Hank replied. "But we'll simply have to wait and see if they stick around. The boy might already prefer the Avengers … or that's at least the way it sounded when they first got here …"

"Right," Scott said dryly. "You mean when he was attacking everyone and convinced we were bad guys. Not hard to prefer anyone over that option."

"Honestly, I'm surprised that Logan hasn't taken him to the tower yet," Hank said, clearly baiting Scott.

"First good decision he's made all year," Scott grumbled.

"Biased," Hank laughed.

"Oh, come on, Hank — he would look  _amazing_ in gold, don't you think?" Jean cajoled him.

"Yet, he prefers purple," Hank pointed out.

Jean waved her hand. "We'll figure something out," she said before she made it a point to kiss Hank's cheek. "Thanks again."

"Anytime," he promised, still smiling to himself as the two Summerses slipped out of his lab once more.


	18. I Wanna Be An Avenger!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Logan takes Clint on a pretty awesome field trip.

 

* * *

 

Clint was really sick and tired. Not literally anymore — Hank had fixed him up good — but… ever since Father's Day when Scott and Jean had gone to get some tests done for their baby, they were just getting sappier and sappier and doing more and more kissing even when they  _knew_ people were around to see it.

And by the time the end of the month came around and Scott was having a birthday and the kissing  _kept going_ , Clint was starting to wonder if it was going to be like this for the whole nine months.

He had slipped past the offending kissers into the garage with the full intention of grabbing his throwing knife set to have some fun, though when he saw Logan, he dropped down to sit next to him and let out a long and weary sigh.

"I am really, really tired of all the kissing around here," he declared.

"Is that an official 'back off'?" Logan asked with a little smirk as he polished up some of the chrome on his engine.

Clint turned Logan's way and then smirked. "Well… it would be nice if you kissed Mom less, but I was talking more about Scott and Jean and how they're just  _like this_."

"Ah." Logan nodded slowly. "Probably just gonna get worse."

"Ugh. That's what I was afraid of." Clint leaned back and let his head rest on the chest of tools.

Logan chuckled at that and took a moment to tip his head Clint's way. "You sick of it enough to get outta the house for an afternoon?"

"You'd have to ask my mom, but I'd be game," Clint said, perking up a bit. "We can go camping — or — or we can go somewhere else…"

Logan nodded. "Not what I had in mind. I got a special delivery for a friend's birthday before he gets too busy."

"Um, Scott's  _real_ busy with Jean…"

"It ain't Scott."

"Okay, well, being a delivery boy isn't  _exactly_ exciting…"

"Is it better or worse if I tell you it's someone from the war?"

"Well… I dunno. Sometimes real old people have good stories and sometimes they're just grumpy," Clint said.

"He's got a few fair stories," Logan said, tipping his head slightly. "Not real grumpy though. Most of the time."

"Okay, that's good," Clint said with a nod. "I guess let's try it, and if I hate it, I'll tell Mom to hit you," he said with a troublemaking look.

"Sounds good to me," Logan said as he got to his feet and tossed the rag he'd been using at Clint just to pick on him. "Where you think we can find her?"

"Well, she was gonna help Kitty with something," Clint said. "Or at least, that's what Kitty said, but I think it was a grilling."

Logan didn't do a very good job of hiding the little growl as he started down a path — following Kitty's scent trail to see what she was up to. He didn't give them any warning, either, before he simply opened the door to the classroom that Kitty had K meet her at. "What the hell are you tryin' to pull, kitten?"

Kitty startled as she turned Logan's way. "I just — I'm just trying to get to know her!"

"Yeah. looks like it," Logan deadpanned before he turned toward K. "I'm headed into the city for a minute. Wanted to have Clint help me out."

"Have fun," K said, smirking at both of them. "I'll probably be in the pool when you get back."

Logan nodded, then pointed a finger at Kitty. "Be nice."

"How come  _I'm_ getting the second degree?" she asked.

"Because I know what you're up to," Logan said. "And it's not your business."

"Well, I think you're wrong," Kitty countered with one hand on her hip. "It so is."

"What else is new?" Logan said as he turned on his heel to head out. "Come on, kiddo."

Clint was grinning as he caught up to Logan, though he glanced over his shoulder at Kitty and then paused. "I mean… I don't want your kids getting shafted just 'cause you think you gotta be nice to me for Mom," he muttered quietly.

"I don't have to be nice to anyone," Logan replied. "She's trying to stir up trouble, and she's wasting her time. She's just mad she couldn't find anything in the system on your mom."

"Okay," Clint said, one eye closed. "I just seen how it is when you mix families and you got kids from different parents, and it ain't always pretty, so just — I don't wanna mess anything up, okay?"

"It's not like that," Logan said. "Really. She's a computer genius. She went digging for information on her and came up empty-handed."

"Oh, okay," Clint said, though now he was starting to smirk. "That's 'cause Mom's so good at hiding."

"She is," Logan agreed. "And Kitty's wastin' her time trying to  _interrogate_ her. Helluva lot better have tried with no luck. Don't know what she thinks she's doing."

"Dunno," Clint said. "But you let me give you a hard time, so maybe… I dunno. I just see what I see, and I don't wanna get in between."

Logan nodded at that. "Don't worry. I'll take Kitty out for some trouble later."

Clint straightened up and smiled a little more. "Oh. Okay, good. That's good," he said with a nod as he followed Logan out to the garage again.

Logan gestured to the Jeep on the far side of the garage. "I'm on the end."

Clint grinned and nodded and climbed into the Jeep, seeming to relax a little more as they got headed out and honestly curious on where Logan might be taking him as they got further into the city.

Traffic was tight, until Logan more or less pulled into a guarded entrance, waving his way past without looking up at the men standing guard and then heading into the dark, cool concrete garage under a massive skyscraper. "I can't promise this won't take a little while."

Clint looked a bit wide-eyed. "Are we… are we sneaking into a  _lair_?" he whispered.

"If we were sneaking, the guys at the garage would have at least tried to stop us," Logan pointed out. "Nah. We're strollin' right in."

"To where?"

"Top floor," Logan said. "To see an old war buddy." He reached into his jacket pocket and then handed Clint a plain brown paper-wrapped package. "Wanna hold onto that for me?"

Clint nodded and clutched the bag, falling silent as he watched Logan ahead of him. It was apparent fairly quickly where they were headed, though, as the logos for the Avengers started to appear the further they got into the building — and the guards at all the entrances barely gave Logan a look as they passed through to the elevator.

Logan leaned against the back of the elevator and gestured to the panel. "Top floor, kiddo."

Clint was even more wide-eyed as he nodded wordlessly, clutching the brown paper bag even tighter. He had no idea that  _this_ was where they were going, and he didn't know what to  _do_.

When the doors opened on the top floor, Logan put a hand on Clint's shoulder and steered him through the door, and then across the hall into the big suite that overlooked the city — and where there was clearly a baseball game on, judging by the commotion that drifted over to them. "I think they're just comin' in off a mission," Logan told Clint.

"Wow," Clint whispered softly — which was really all he could manage.

Logan gestured the way they needed to go, and before they fully turned the corner, Clint could see a flash of red, white, and blue as  _someone_ turned the corner ahead of them. "Hey Cap," Logan called out. "You do anything worthwhile, or you just posing for the cameras again?"

"Hey, baby kissing is hard work," Captain America laughed as he turned toward Logan, already grinning before he even saw Clint and then somehow grinning wider still. "I didn't know your other team was taking recruits this young — should I step in and have a word on child safety?"

Logan chuckled at that. "The way Jeannie's goin' on? You might need to," he said. "This is a little friend of mine. He decided to take the trip to town with me, since I'm gonna miss your big  _public_ party."

Cap shook his head at that. "It was more fun when it was just us, a radio, and some chocolate bars."

"Speaking of," Logan said before he gave Clint's shoulder a squeeze. "Found somethin' for you." When Clint didn't react to that, though, Logan took a minute to sign to him.  _You okay?_

Clint blinked for a second and then glanced up at Logan, his eyes as wide as plates.  _You didn't tell me we were going to go see the Avengers._

 _Cap is an old war buddy,_  Logan explained. "You still got that bag, right?"

Clint nodded almost reflexively before he glanced up at Steve and turned almost shy as he held out the brown bag. "Logan ... Logan lemme hold it," he muttered.

Steve grinned and pulled back the mask he was wearing so Clint could see the easy smile there — though it really wasn't helping the star-struck expression as Steve waved them both inside. "Come on; can't let you just show up and run out like you're dropping off milk."

"Go on, he won't bite," Logan said to Clint. "Probably give you a Coke if you give him five seconds."

Clint was still just staring at Steve as he nodded wordlessly and let Steve show him back to where the other Avengers were lounging in the living room — though that had him somehow even more dumbfounded when he saw Jan teasing Tony about something while Thor egged them both on.

"Thought that armor stopped the damage from hitting you in the face," Logan called out, getting Jan to bust out in a laugh and gesture at Tony as if he was making the point for her.

"That's what I've been  _saying_ ," she said, grinning over at Logan and then clapping her hands together with a delighted 'oh' when she saw that Logan wasn't alone. "Okay, who is this?"

"Gotta be Cap's," Tony called out. "Got the whole … blonde … thing going on. Ha!"

But at that, Clint flushed red and shook his head. "No… I ain't… no," he muttered.

"Clint here is one of the kids at the school. He's staying in Westchester for a while with his mother," Logan said. "Kid needed to get away from Slim for a minute. I sympathized."

"Mission of mercy," Tony mused.

"Is your mom as pretty as you are handsome, Clint?" Jan asked with a smile that was more directed at Logan than at Clint.

Clint nodded, his eyes still wide as he took in the Avengers — who were all looking at him. "Um… yeah _. I_  think she is, anyway."

Jan waved him over with an enthusiastic smile, though it wasn't until Steve nudged him slightly that Clint actually moved forward. He could see the source of the teasing now — with Iron Man's helmet on the table and obviously smoky around the edges of the eyes.

"Did… did you get hit?" Clint asked, tentatively looking up at Tony, though he felt like it was a stupid question when he could still see soot clinging to Tony's cheekbones under his eyes.

"Yeah," Tony said, gesturing to the facemask across the room. "Hazard of the gig, unfortunately. Can't all be kissing babies and watching people swoon like Cap."

The corner of Clint's mouth ticked up in an almost-smirk as he nodded. "Yeah, guess not," he agreed. "Sometimes you end up looking like Jean when her mascara runs."

"Hey now," Tony said, frowning at him. "Inaccurate."

Clint glanced toward Logan for a second before he shook his head lightly. "Yeah… I guess it's more like when the girls at school fall asleep with makeup on and it flakes."

Steve burst out laughing at that, and Logan smirked Clint's way. "Hear that, Stark? Better check your mascara," Steve called out. "You'd be scaring babies otherwise. Keep your mask on."

Jan giggled delightedly at the look on Tony's face. "Ooh, Logan, I like this one," she said. "Where did you find him, and  _why_ didn't  _we_ get to meet him sooner?"

"Mission run," Logan said. "I tried to get 'em to send them this way, actually. Mighta struck a nerve."

"Might've," Jan giggled, though by that time, Clint had more or less tuned the adults out and was staring at the Iron Man helmet.

"Is… do you wear it just like that?" he asked at last

"Yep," Tony said, hopping up and gesturing for Clint to go with him. "Goes on easy, covers …  _just_ about everything."

"Just about," Clint agreed, though he was still staring. He looked between the helmet and Tony and then nodded to himself. "Okay. Don't… don't move. I'm… I wanna see something," he said almost hesitantly.

Tony frowned, crossed his arms, and tipped his chin up as he watched Clint. "Whatcha thinking?"

"Well…" Clint took a deep breath and held it before he dug in his pocket for his pocketknife, flicked it open, and tossed it through the eye opening. "It's kinda a dumb design."

There was just half a second or so of total silence before Logan and Steve both simply fell apart laughing at that, only made better by the look on Tony's face. "What the hell, Logan?" Tony said. "You brought a kid that can  _throw knives?_ "

"And he can do it without a targeting system," Logan chuckled. "Knew how to do it when he got to us."

Clint scrunched his shoulders up a bit. "I was just… you got smoke in your eyes and…"

"That's  _fantastic,_ " Steve said, grinning broadly. "Maybe you'll knock a little sense into him, since he wouldn't listen to us."

"Aye, sometimes it takes the honesty of a child to break through when logic otherwise fails," Thor laughed, clearly entertained.

"C'mon, Rogers," Logan said, one hand still on Steve's shoulder as they both laughed. "We got other crap to get done while we're in town. Open your stupid trinket already."

"Oh, do you have to go?" Jan sang out, even though Steve was already coming to a seat.

"We can come back," Logan said, winking at her.

"You better," she said, leveling a finger his way. "You found a kid who can take Tony down a peg  _and_ knows his makeup?  _Where have you been hiding him?_ "

"I told you: Westchester. Hey. Went through a lot of trouble to find that, Cap," Logan said, tipping his chin toward the package Steve was eyeing warily as Logan took a seat next to Tony and shoved him off his chair.

Steve was still grinning over at Tony, who was now muttering to himself as he pulled Clint's pocket knife out of his helmet, before he switched gears to look over Logan's present, though he went almost entirely still when he saw the old pocket watch Logan had brought him. "Where'd you find this?"

"Madripoor."

Steve glanced up at Logan for a moment before he simply took him by the shoulders and pulled him into a solid hug. He shook his head as he pulled back again to look him in the face with a simple, "thanks."

"You're welcome," Logan said. "Glad it crossed my path. You were only there the one time, back then, weren't you?"

"Back then, yeah," Steve nodded. "But if I remember right, I was pretty busy at the time," he added with a smirk.

"Priorities," Logan said, shrugging.

"What's Madripoor?" Clint asked, his eyebrows high as he looked between the two old friends.

"Man-made island off the coast of Japan," Logan said off-handedly. "Kind of a rough place."

"He's downplaying it," Steve said with a smirk.

"Yeah, not because he's got any  _stakes_ in it or anything," Tony said half under his breath.

"Just the bar," Logan said.

"Officially," Tony shot back, pointing a finger his way.

"You got a bar?" Clint asked with his nose scrunched up. "Why you wanna be around drunks all the time?"

"It's more of a gambling den," Tony said.

"That bar's been around since the island was made," Logan said. "Just a shame to shut it down, that's all."

"Sentimental, that's what he is," Steve teased.

"So I guess I can just chuck that watch out the window then, eh?" Logan countered.

"No, it's mine now," Steve said with a laugh.

Clint climbed up to sit next to Logan, though he was peering at Steve. "So… so you've known Logan for a real long time, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Steve replied, still bright-eyed and smiling. "We fought together in the Great War. Met him in that bar, actually."

Clint nodded seriously. "Oh. Yeah, if I met Captain America at a place, I wouldn't wanna tear it down either," he told Logan.

"I already had a stake in it before he came around," Logan said with a smirk.

"Uh-huh." Clint smirked right back at Logan. "Okay, but you didn't tell me you fought with Captain America. Just like you didn't tell me you're a samurai."

"You didn't ask," Logan said, crossing his arms.

"I'm only  _seven_. How'm I supposed to know I gotta ask stuff like that?" Clint shot right back.

"Basic rule of thumb, kid," Tony said. "If they're on our side, he's fought with them. If they're on the other side … he's fought them or fought with them. Or both."

"Okay, but now I gotta make a list," Clint said with a smirk. "Like… like didja ever fight with, like… like the Red Skull or somebody?" he asked. "I read him in the comic book Storm gave me."

"Yeah," Logan said, nodding. "Couple times."

Clint gestured at Logan with both hands and turned an exasperated look Steve's way. "He doesn't tell me  _nothing_."

"He's just like that," Steve laughed. "Doesn't think it's worth talking about unless you  _ask_. He even turned down my offer to team up for the rest of the war."

" _Why_."

"I didn't need a sidekick," Logan said with a straight face.

"You know that's not…" Steve let out a sigh as Tony burst out laughing.

"Okay, but now I wanna know what happened," Clint said.

"It was a little bit of a double-cross," Steve said. "We met up with Logan after getting a hot tip that he was the guy to get us to Baron Von Strucker — who, by the way, Logan made a point of spilling a beer on as he made his way over to our table while singing a Jewish song. Loudly."

Clint grinned and clearly settled in with an expression that said he was in for the long haul — perfectly content to listen to any and all stories.


	19. Back to the Circus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the X-Men really want to see the other Barton boy perform!

 

* * *

 

After the Avengers Tower visit, Clint had definitely warmed up to Logan. At least… enough that he wasn't  _as_ freaked out by how much he knew Logan and his mom were spending time and kissing and stuff.

And it also looked like Kitty and Jubilee were starting to be at least a little okay with his mom, too, because he saw them talking to her after he came in from practicing some archery outside — though when he read their lips and saw the word 'Barney' come up…

"Why're you guys talking about my brother?" Clint called out as he rushed over to join them.

"Um … we were just talking about maybe … forcing a field trip," Kitty said.

"My brother doesn't have anything to do with this school, though," Clint pointed out with his arms crossed.

"Yeah, but …" Kitty made her way over to hand him a flyer. "This was up in Salem Center. It's a few towns over, but …"

Clint glanced down at the flyer and then froze when he realized that it was  _his_ brother's circus.  _And_ it was a flyer with the cast on it, complete with Barney and Miranda as a duo act.

He glanced up fast enough to make his head hurt and met K's gaze. "I know we gotta — we gotta be careful and quiet and all because of the bad guys but… but it's Barney's  _circus_ …"

"We gotta go," she said, shrugging her shoulders up. "All there is to it. He's probably grown out of his jeans by now — and I know he'll be due for new sneakers."

"Plus, I wanna see his act with Miranda," Clint said excitedly.

K nodded. "You and me both. So … let's go liberate Logan's keys, hmm?"

"Great! I'll get 'em!" Clint said, dashing off toward the garage with a grin wider than anything he'd been wearing all week.

"We want to come too," Kitty told K.

"I'm reasonably sure that I can't get the clearance for that," K said. "I get some looks from Scott when I leave with Logan … to take you guys with me? Yeah … I don't think that'd fly."

"We sneak out all the time," Jubilee said. " _Especially_ when Scott's being a stick in the mud."

K tipped her head to the side. "You … better clear that by Logan."

"Yeah, but he's with the Avengers for the next few days," Jubilee pouted. "He'll totally miss the whole thing!"

"I'm sure you can still get a hold of him," K pointed out. "Or someone he trusts …"

Kitty and Jubilee shared a wordless glance before they nodded. "Don't leave without us," Kitty told her before the two girls rushed off together.

It was obvious who they'd picked as their go-between, too, when, in a poof of smoke, the girls caught up with Clint and K a little while later with Kurt between them grinning widely.

"If you're going to go on a field trip, you should have someone on staff who knows about the ins and outs of the circus," Kurt said with his shoulders drawn back a bit.

"I wasn't …" K let out a sigh. "I told them to get permission. The only ones that were going for sure as far as I'm concerned were Clint and I."

"I'll keep these two out of your hair if you want it to be a family outing," Kurt offered. "But really, who could pass up the chance to see the circus in town — especially with the great Barney Barton?" he teased, which got Clint to flush a bit, knowing that he'd probably been talking up his brother too much.

K smirked at him and shook her head. "I just need to change my look — probably cut my hair off again. We weren't going to go for at least an hour."

"If that's the case, I may be able to make this a bit more official," Kurt said with a laugh. "A few drama students… it could be a class outing. With you as a second adult chaperone, of course," he teased.

"Oh look, we found a way to get the stick in the mud to lay off," Jubilee giggled.

"This is why we bring Kurt with us," Kitty agreed.

"Is this just … something that you do?" K asked as she headed for the house. "Because I need to prepare myself if you're going to be overly dramatic."

"You know he's an acrobat, right?" Clint said. "Not possible to rein it in."

"No, I didn't know that," K said, though she didn't look entirely as if she was teasing. "I really don't know much about this guy."

Kurt put a hand on his heart. "Unacceptable. You can't be spending  _this much time_  with my best friend and not know at least something about me!"

She shrugged almost all the way up to her ears. "Sorry. You really haven't come up."

Kurt let out a little noise before he teleported right to K and offered her his arm. "We must rectify this immediately," he said.

"What do you have in mind?" K asked, though she simply took his arm.

Kurt beamed at her and put his hand over hers. "You said that we'd be leaving in an hour. That leaves me time to introduce myself properly — and five minutes for your haircut," he teased.

"That's probably two too many," she teased right back. "But okay."

"Even better," he laughed.

"Mom, he's an acrobat and a pirate and I like Logan better, okay?" Clint called out, both hands cupped around his mouth — though he was wearing a crooked smile.

"I'm not even flirting," K laughed. "I just need a disguise before we go, and you can fill the girls in on what to expect, okay?"

Clint grinned and waved them off, already laughing as Kurt explained that yes, he had been an acrobat, before he turned to the other two girls. "So… umm… is Jean in  _your_ heads saying she wants to come too or just mine?"

"Um … she wasn't, but she is now, thanks for that," Jubilee said before she tipped her face toward the ceiling. "Everyone else is just inviting themselves! No reason that you need an invitation if you want to go!"

Clint just started to laugh — especially when that meant that by the time everyone was ready to go, Jean had informed Scott she had a  _craving_ and that she  _needed_ to go to the circus and basically, it was impossible for him to say no. And that was pretty much how most of the X-Men were coming to his brother's circus — even if Scott and Jean were driving separately and more or less making a date of it.

On the other hand, the kids climbed into the back of Logan's Jeep, with Clint in the middle. K looked at Jubilee for a moment. "Drive it like you stole it, right?"

"Oh, totally," Jubilee agreed with a steadily widening smile.

The whole group of them were wearing wide grins by the time they got to the circus — not only from the crazy driving but from the music and the jokes that were flying around in the group.

It was obvious that Kitty and Jubilee were starting to really warm up to K as they saw her relax, not to mention the fact that Kurt was in such a good mood at the prospect of going to the circus that it was truly impossible for any of them  _not_ to follow him into that good mood.

They did take a minute, however, to set things up before they actually went to the big tents. Kurt had brought two image inducers — since K had been concerned about disguises, after all — and took a moment to explain to Clint what the little device did as he gave one to K.

"Not everyone is as accepting of a blue-furred acrobat as you are, Clint," Kurt explained to Clint, who had his head tipped to the side in obvious concern.

"Yeah, well, some people are just stupid," Clint said.

Kurt couldn't stop his smile at that and nodded. "Yes, well, even so , my own unique appearance might draw a bit more attention than we mean to draw," he explained. "So this will help me blend in."

"How?"

Kurt grinned at him and gestured for Clint to watch before he hit the inducer — and Clint stared at him in shock as he switched from the fuzzy blue Nightcrawler to a tall blond man. "Like so," he said.

"Ugh," K said, shaking her head. "Hideous."

Kurt couldn't help but chuckle. "You and Logan both have the same reaction."

"Just goes to show we're right," she said, shrugging up one shoulder.

"I think he looks okay," Clint put in.

"But just okay," K said, reaching over to fluff his hair.

"Well, I just… he doesn't look like  _him_ ," he tried to explain.

"He's not as gorgeous as you," she said. "You clearly pull it off much better."

Clint put on a look of longsuffering as he glanced toward Kurt. "She really likes my hair," he explained. "Maybe you shoulda not been a blond."

"It's fine," she laughed. "I actually prefer dark hair. Blond is perfect."

"What about you, Mom? What're you gonna look like?" Clint asked, gesturing at the inducer in her hands.

"I have no idea," she admitted. "This … was his idea, not mine." She took a moment to have Kurt show her how it worked before she flipped it on and turned toward Clint, biting her lip. "Well?"

Clint almost couldn't help his grin when he realized that Kurt had programmed the inducer so that it looked like K was… well… his mom. She had long blonde hair and blue eyes, and she even looked taller and thinner, somehow.

"Is it awful?" K asked.

He shook his head quickly. "No... we match!" he said, gesturing between himself, Kurt, and K. "How cool is that?"

"Kinda cool, considering. Think Barney will freak out?"

Clint shook his head. "Nah, Barney's seen you do disguises before." He paused. "But… not as good as this one," he admitted.

"I still think it might be best not to freak Barney out with a big crowd," K said, looking to the others. "You all can be a little … much."

Jubilee looked like she might argue, but Kitty grabbed her arm. "Come on," she said. "We'll still meet him —  _after_ I trounce you at the ring toss."With that, the two girls rushed off together, already promising that each of them would be the winner.

"Want to go see him now?" K asked Clint once the crowd had thinned substantially. "I grabbed a bag of clothes for him."

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah. I haven't seen Barney in  _ages,_ " he agreed, already leading the way, which had Kurt shaking his head as he offered K his arm.

"Shall we?"

"I don't see why not," she agreed, gingerly taking his arm. "Let's … freak out the big kid."

As they walked through the tents and trailers gathered off to the side of the big top, K gently helped to direct Kurt with little squeezes or gentle pushes so it still at least  _looked_ like he was directing the three of them — to keep their cover.

At least, that was the case until they spotted Barney, who was taking a break and munching on some popcorn before he saw Clint barreling toward him and simply dropped what he was doing so he could catch his brother when Clint launched.

"Woah, hey, you gotta stop doing that," Barney said, laughing as he almost toppled over backwards.

"You know he can't help himself," K said, pausing just beyond the reunion.

Barney grinned her way — and then stopped when he saw her. "Woah," he breathed out. "What…"

"Brought you some new clothes," K told him, totally ignoring the expression he was wearing. "I figured you outgrew what you had by a long shot." She let go of Kurt and took a few steps closer to hand him the bag. "It's been too long, sweetheart."

Barney stared at her for a long time before he broke into a smile and gave her one of his usual, quick hugs. "You don't look anything like you. How'd you do that?" he asked. "I mean, it's great that you can hide from the bad guys and all but… what the heck?"

"I don't know the first thing about it — you can blame my ex-acrobat friend here," she said, gesturing to Kurt.

"Acrobat, huh?" Barney said, giving Kurt an appraising look. "Where'd you find Clint and his mom, then, Mr. Acrobat?"

"They were in need of a lift," Kurt said, smirking to himself.

"Yeah, makes sense," Barney said slowly. "I mean, they were on the run…" He turned back to Clint. "So you finally ditched those guys chasing you? I was real worried, you know. Paul was saying if we didn't hear from you guys by the end of the season, we were gonna spend the winter looking."

"Sorry," K said earnestly. "I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. I'd make sure that there was at least a message to you."

"Besides," Clint said, "nobody can find Mom if she doesn't want them to." He paused. "I mean… usually. But we took care of the bad guys." He leaned forward with a grin. "I threw a knife at a really,  _really_ bad guy and saved Mom," he whispered, which had Barney's eyebrows shooting straight up.

"He did," she agreed. "But let's not talk about that. We came to see you, and to check in, and to promise to meet up with you at the usual time, if nothing else."

Barney looked between the two of them, his eyebrows still high on his head. "You … I wanna know about how you fought 'em off, though," he said. "That sounds exciting! And all I did was get in the ring with Miranda … you can see that later anyway."

"Um … that is exciting, too," K said. "Considering."

Barney grinned and nodded. "I got a new sword, too," he told her.

"Is that so?" Kurt asked, looking more interested, a crooked smile in place as he leaned forward.

"Well, I  _am_ the weapons master's second," Barney said, drawing himself up importantly.

"Kurt's been teaching me some swords stuff too," Clint told his brother. "That way, we can practice together!"

Barney looked surprised as he glanced at Kurt. "I thought you said he was an acrobat."

"I wasn't aware it was an either-or profession," Kurt said with a light laugh. He held his hand out to Barney. "I'm a fan of the dual wield myself — what do you find works best for you?"

Barney glanced toward Clint and K, obviously not quite trusting the situation, but when neither of them seemed to object to this stranger, he gave Kurt a little shrug. "I'm still learning. I do a little fencing with Miranda, but right now, I do more of the throwing knives part of the show."

"He's even better at it than me!" Clint put in helpfully.

"Oh, really?" Kurt looked properly impressed. "That is quite the feat. Clint has left us all agape with his aim."

"Yeah, we practice together a lot when we get to see each other," Barney said with a nod. "You gotta see the show. I got the spin just perfect so that it flashes in the light — it looks so cool!"

"I'm sure it does," Kurt said, still smiling.

"Okay, but… but I wanna see that sword you were talking about," Clint said as he grabbed Barney's arm to start dragging him along.

Not that Barney needed much cajoling. He was just as excited to show off as Clint was — and, of course, both boys were trading stories back and forth the whole time. Barney wanted to know about the guy Clint had knifed, and Clint wanted to know how training with Miranda and Paul was going…

Clint tried to tell the story about Creed so it sounded a little less scary than it was, because he didn't want Barney to worry to much. And he sorta made it sound like it was just him and K, though that wasn't on purpose. He hadn't really been paying much attention to anything the others were doing after he knifed Creed and K had dived in.

And, of course, there was a little more curiosity on Barney's part about Clint's new friend, since he had never met Kurt….

"So, is your mom dating now?" he asked suddenly when Clint had just finished explaining to Barney that he had gotten to curl up with K and Sicem when they got home after Creed had grabbed him.

Clint looked almost startled by the question as he turned Barney's way. "What?"

"This guy — the acrobat — is she dating him?" Barney asked. "I mean, they match and she let him pick out her disguise…"

Clint blinked at Barney with a look that clearly told his brother how ridiculous he thought the suggestion was. "She's not… no!"

"It's okay if she is," Barney pointed out. "I caught Paul and Miranda kissing behind the tent last week, and ever since, they've been real nice about asking if I'm okay sharing Miranda with Paul."

Clint paused and then grinned. "I knew it!"

"Knew what?"

"I knew your ringmaster liked your teacher," Clint said. "K said they'd be kissing by the time we came and got you for your birthday and they'd probably want the privacy."

Barney made a face at that before he simply shook his head. "It's not a secret. Just about everyone around here figured they'd be kissing before long."

"Because they're not sneaky at all," Clint said with a smirk.

"They ain't trying to be," Barney said. He let a troublemaking grin pass over his features as he leaned forward. "Are K and Kurt tryna be sneaky?"

Clint frowned and stuck a finger out to point at Barney. "First of all," he said, "my mom doesn't gotta  _try_ to be sneaky."

Barney snickered. "Okay."

"And second of all," Clint continued, raising his voice slightly, "she's  _not_ dating Kurt, okay?"

"Maybe she is and you just don't know it."

Clint shook his head. "Nu-uh. She's  _not_ dating Kurt — 'cause she's dating his best friend!"

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, well… I dunno if they're dating, but they're definitely kissing," Clint said, pulling a face.

"Well, where is he, and can I read him the riot act?" Barney asked.

Clint grinned. "I already did that," he promised.

"Well, good. But I still wanna meet him," Barney said.

"Okay. Maybe next time," Clint said. "We weren't actually planning on bringing anyone else, but I guess I talked you up real good, because everyone wants to see your show."

"But no pressure, right?" Barney shook his head, then did a double-take. "Wait, what do you mean everyone?"

"Oh, right." Clint bit his lip and then gave his brother a little smile. "Well… you'll probably see 'em in the audience. Kurt and Logan — that's the guy Mom's kissing — they got a lot of friends, and a few of them wanted to come." He smiled a little wider. "They're real nice, honest!"

"Uh-huh."

"Really! They play with me and Sicem and stuff."

"Okay, well… okay, but if they don't like the show…"

Clint shook his head at that and very quickly darted over to wrap Barney up in a hug. "They're gonna like it because you're the best!" he assured Barney. "But if you're real nervous, we can practice, okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Barney said, smiling a little now. "Race ya!"

* * *

By the time the show was starting up at the big top, Kitty and Jubilee had their fill of the different carnival games, and they met up with the other three members of their group for the show. They were in good moods — especially since Jubilee had her pockets full of candy and was halfway through her second cotton candy.

"Didja know you can get a purple one of those?" Clint asked, indicating the cotton candy in Jubilee's hand. "If you mix the blue and the purple just right, it works!"

"Oh, I didn't get a purple one," Jubilee said with a troublemaking smile. "I guess I'll have to go back and get another one. Oh darn."

Kurt positively burst out laughing at that. "I'm sure it's a real imposition for you."

"For sure," Jubilee said, flashing Kurt a thumbs-up. "Save my spot for me, would you?"

Kitty shook her head at Jubilee's retreating form as she joined the others heading into the tent. "So," she said with a smile Clint's way. "You'll point your brother out to us, right?"

Clint grinned crookedly. "He looks like me. I bet you can find him all by yourself."

"Okay, smart guy," Kitty said, though she was laughing despite herself. "That's true, but what about the costumes?"

"Ooh, good point. I didn't think about that," Clint said, nodding thoughtfully. "I haven't seen his new costume yet, though."

"I'm sure we'll be able to figure it out when we see him throwing knives, if nothing else," Kurt teased lightly.

"That's true," Clint agreed, grinning up at Kurt as he led the way into the tent.

As they took their seats, it was abundantly clear to Clint that Kurt was having the time of his life — even before the show had started. It was obvious he missed the circus, judging by the way he was positively drinking in the sights, sounds, and smells all around him.

Clint watched Kurt for a moment before he cleared his throat. "You know," he said slowly, ""the ringmaster here don't mind if you're a mutant. He takes anybody that's got skills. You know. If you were thinking you might wanna be an acrobat again…"

Kurt looked surprised for an instant before he gave Clint a warm smile. "That's a very tempting offer," he admitted. "But I couldn't leave the family I have in Westchester."

"Okay," Clint said with a shrug. "You just looked sad, that's all."

Kurt's smile turned somehow warmer, and he couldn't help but pull Clint into a hug. "You have a heart of gold, Clint," he told him.

"I'm just tryna be nice," Clint said, flushing slightly.

"And that is what makes you so good," Kurt agreed. "You simply  _are_ kind — and expect nothing in return." He leaned forward. "Never lose that."

"Like Mom would ever let me," Clint said with a grin.

Kurt laughed at that. "Then we're all lucky she's around, aren't we?"

"Uh-huh," Clint said — and to emphasize the point, he climbed over to where K and Kitty were talking together and simply snuggled into his mom's side.

Not that the snuggle lasted long when the show started and the performers did their opening act — with everyone coming out to show off. Clint was nearly leaning out of his chair trying to identify his brother, and when he spotted Barney in his purple costume, he started waving like mad.

"There he is!" he whispered sharply to Kitty.

Kitty threw K a smirk before she smiled outright Clint's way. "The one that looks like you?" she teased.

"Yep, that one," Clint said, giggling to himself, though he was craning his neck trying to see Jubilee. "Jubes is gonna miss it!"

"I'll get her," Kurt promised, since Clint looked so worried. He slipped out of his seat and, with the audience's attention on the performance, was able to teleport off to find Jubilee and bring her back before the opening act was quite over.

"You almost missed it," Clint told Jubilee, his eyes wide. "My brother's got a new purple costume and everything!"

"And there is the biggest part of the family resemblance," she teased.

He giggled and nodded. "Exactly. You almost missed it," he teased.

"Got you some cotton candy," Jubilee said, holding out the second purple cotton candy for him.

"Okay, you're  _mostly_ forgiven," Clint said as he took the offering.

"Only mostly," Kitty laughed.

"Would have been fully if you'd brought some cinnamon almonds too," K teased.

"Oooh, exactly that," Clint said, pointing K's way.

"Think you can tell the girls the hardest parts?" K asked.

Clint nodded. "But you should tell them about the horses, because you know them best."

"Maybe," K said. "But they came to see Barney. Not the horses."

"I didn't know you were an equestrian," Kitty said K's way.

"You didn't ask," K replied automatically.

Kitty and Jubilee glanced at each other, and Jubilee almost giggled. "That's familiar."

Clint shushed them both, though, when Barney and Miranda came out to the center, both of them wearing swords that they brought out with a flourish for their introductory bows. Clint grinned and leaned forward, almost bouncing in his seat as Miranda did her sword dance first before she and Barney had a short fencing match.

The crowd was entranced as Miranda managed to 'disarm' Barney — who then switched to knives. It was much more of a story than what Jacques had done — which was mostly showing off. As they watched, Barney would toss knives, and of course, he was hitting the mark each time at the various props, but it looked like a fight. Finally, Miranda 'surrendered', throwing her sword down, and Barney gave the audience a flourishing bow that had Clint whistling and hollering for his big brother.

"That's my brother!" he almost shouted, tugging on Kurt's sleeve and clearly thrilled.

"He certainly knows how to put on a show," Kurt agreed, grinning broadly.

"Dramatic runs in the family, apparently," K teased.  _Just like you_ , she signed to Clint.

"I'm not dramatic," Clint said, his lower lip poked out.

"Yeah, that's a great defense, sweetheart," K chuckled before she reached over to fluff his hair up. "Maybe you should be an acrobat?"

"I don't  _want_ to be an acrobat!" he insisted. "I want to be an archer! And an archeologist!"

"Well you can be an acrobatic archeologist archer … might come in handy if you really  _do_ end up being like Indiana Jones." She tipped her head and thought about it for a moment. "You need a bullwhip."

He was already nodding his fervent agreement. "Can I get one for Christmas?"

"Only if you want to learn tricks with it," she replied.

"Well, duh," he said, nodding seriously.

"Then I'll have to see if my friend Sally still has her whip," K decided. "She lives a few towns over from where the cottage is, but I'm sure she'd spend an afternoon showing you how to get started."

"That would be amazing!" Clint said, leaning back in to almost snuggle K again through the rest of the show.

It was obvious the group of them were enjoying themselves, and when the show ended, Clint grabbed both Kitty and Jubilee by the hands. "You gotta meet Barney, okay? I told him I brought friends."

"Sounds great," Kitty said, unable to stop her smile as she let Clint lead them toward the cast — all of whom knew Clint by that point and were able to greet him by name, with Clint returning the favor.

"Saw you in the audience, Clint," Miranda said with a smile once they got there. "Who are your friends?"

"This is Kitty and Jubes and Kurt — they helped us get away from the bad guys!" Clint said with a grin.

Jubilee waved with the tips of her fingers, bouncing on her toes as Kitty smiled their way with a more controlled sort of open-handed wave. "We've only heard good things," Kitty promised.

"Oh, then I'm so sorry he's been such a horrible liar," Miranda laughed. She had one hand resting easily on Barney's shoulder, but it wasn't at all like what Jacques used to do, where he was clearly staking a claim. This was borne more out of familiarity and genuine affection.

"Nu-uh," Clint insisted. "I don't lie about  _family_."

"Of course not," Miranda assured him.

"Didja like the show?" Barney asked, directing the question toward Clint, though he kept glancing at the girls as well. It was obvious he was a little taken aback by the fact that Clint had brought a couple teenage girls, and at almost-ten, he was clearly blushing a bit as well.

Clint was nodding enthusiastically, and of course, the X-Men were all giving Barney enthusiastic smiles. "It was great," Kitty promised.

"I like how you and Miranda had a fight," Clint said. "That was cooler to watch than just Jaques showing off!"

"That's what I said," Barney said, nodding enthusiastically.

"You had the flair to keep the audience engaged no matter what," Kurt said with a warm smile. "I think, judging by the applause, it might have been the favorite."

Barney shook his head. "Nuh-uh," he said, clearly not believing it. "What about the acrobats? Everyone loves Ana — she's just starting and she's already real good…" He trailed off and flushed red. "And … and yeah."

"Ooooh, I wanna meet her," K said, grinning widely. "Which one was she?"

"She had the yellow unitard," Barney said, dropping his gaze to the floor with his bottom lip in his teeth.

"Oh, she was very very cute," K said, nodding slowly. "Wasn't she cute, Kurt?"

"Incredibly," Kurt said, smirking harder.

"We should go introduce ourselves while Clint and the girls make friends," K said.

"No!" Barney said, looking almost terrified. "No, don't — she'll know — don't do that!"

K couldn't help but laugh as she took the few steps forward and pulled him into a hug, simply to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I wouldn't try to embarass you. I was teasing, I swear." She stepped back, still smiling at him. "I will give you some privacy, though. I'm sure you want to talk to your brother without a chaperone."

Barney smiled at that and then gave her a little hug. "I'm just real glad to see you're okay," he told her quietly enough that she was the only one to catch it.

"Missed you, handsome," she muttered back quietly.

"Are you gonna come to more shows now?" he asked. "You should come right around my birthday… Miranda's gonna let me do the opening bit of the act."

"I'd like to come for your birthday," she agreed. "What city will that one be in?"

"That one's in Columbus," he said.

K turned toward Kurt. "What are the chances of getting to Ohio in oh … about a month?"

Kurt smiled at that. "I'm sure we can arrange something," he agreed.

"There you have it, Mister Barton," K said, giving him another little squeeze. "I'll be the one buying you dinner."

Barney simply grinned at that before he grabbed Clint so that he could drag him off to bend his ear on how the show had gone.


	20. Some House Cats Bring Dead Birds...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint and the X-Men get back from the circus to find a very disturbing 'gift'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the final chapter of this volume of Clint's story. As you'll see, he's about to have some big changes in his life... but we think he'll enjoy it all the same, even if he has been enjoying his time with the X-Men...
> 
> Volume 3 will be up soon, but in the meantime... *presentation hands*

 

* * *

 

By the time the X-Men, K, and Clint got back to the mansion, they were all in great moods. Clint and Jubilee were both riding an incredible sugar high, and Kitty couldn't stop laughing at Kurt as he gushed about the circus — and reminisced about his own formative years.

K had kept the inducer on — just in case they were followed, as she was highly paranoid that someone was following the circus waiting for her. But that just had Clint in an even better mood, since he and Kurt and K all matched.

What they weren't expecting at all, then, was to come home to find that there were a bunch of black-clad soldiers… just… tied up and sitting on the front lawn.

"What the hell..." K muttered, half under her breath. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Kurt frowned and teleported to the soldiers. He leaned down to examine them closer, and his eyes only narrowed further. "I believe," he said slowly, "that these are the same men chasing you, K."

She put the Jeep into neutral and pulled the break before she stepped out of it, then took a few steps from the still running vehicle to close her eyes and draw in a slow, deep breath — and then almost immediately swear outright. "This isn't working out."

"What's wrong, Mom?" Clint asked quietly.

"They can't keep Creed under wraps," she said. "So this … isn't gonna work."

Clint turned positively pale at that. "I thought he was gone," he said softly.

"His stink is all over this place."

Kurt stopped and then held up a hand. "I need to make a call," he said, disappearing quickly to place the call to the tower — and let the Avengers know that he needed Logan back. Now.

K shook her head and climbed in the Jeep again to head up to the house with the kids. There was  _no_ reason to stick around where the giant tabby cat had left a freakin'  _offering._

The good mood was entirely gone from the group as they got inside, and once they arrived, Clint took next to no time to rush over to where Sicem was, half curled up and watching the door. It was obvious Sicem was looking out for Clint — though K was doing the same thing by heading right back out again once Clint was inside to see what she could do about the tabby cat in question.

So when Jean and Scott got in, Jean was completely shocked by her reintroduction home — with a tiny blond boy all but attaching to her and hiding under her arms.

"Woah, what's wrong?" Jean asked, tucking Clint into a hug.

Clint shook his head and simply held on tighter, though even when he couldn't say anything, Jean could hear him projecting out how scared he was.

When Scott picked up on what Jean was sharing with him, he frowned and crouched down by both of them. "Clint, no one is going to let anything bad happen to you or your mom. You know that, right?"

Clint peeked out from underneath Jean's arms and narrowed his eyes at Scott. "Yeah but he already got here," he said.

Scott frowned.  _Jean, we need to talk to her before she leaves. If he catches them alone…_

 _I know,_ Jean agreed, reaching out to K to connect Scott and K.  _K, we know what happened,_ she said.

 _Not interested in hearing it,_ she replied, though her tone was one of high nerves, and her mind was racing.

_K, you have to know he's safer here._

_I know he is,_  she agreed, and already, Jean could 'hear' the gears turning.

 _Don't,_ Scott said.  _I know what you're thinking. He can't come back from that_ —  _from feeling like his family walked out._

_I don't … I can't do anything for him to keep him safe._

_You can be his mother. That's all you need to do. We can help with the rest of it._

_Yeah, that's not working out so great. I haven't seen this idiot in years until I got into this group._

Scott let out a breath.  _I know,_ he said.  _But I also know how we found you. Backup is the difference between life and death when it comes to these guys._

_I know. And ties are what they use to catch you. I'm very well versed._

_So don't let them make that true,_ Scott said.  _They want you to be isolated and to break up any connections you have. I know from experience_ —  _the way to fight that is to have a family anyway._

 _I can't … have this conversation right now,_  K replied, clearly frustrated with all of it.

 _When would you rather have it, then? Before or after you sit down with Clint_ —  _who, by the way, is terrified._

_Get out of my head._

_As soon as you get here to have an in-person conversation, I'll be more than happy to do just that._

_If I come up there now, you're gonna be bleeding,_  she shot back, and she kicked a box in the garage clear across the whole span, where it bounced off of a blue convertible.

 _We're just trying to keep you and Clint safe_ —  _and together,_ Jean projected gently.

Before K could snarl back a response, though, she had to take a step back as Kurt appeared with Logan in tow — which sent her thoughts straight into Swedish as she swore at the two men. "Your little friend doesn't know how to keep her nose in her own head," K snarled their way.

"We've been telling her as much for some time," Kurt said.

"Yeah? She usually let her doofy boy toy do the talking too?" she asked.

Kurt looked honestly surprised. "Actually, no."

"Just wait," Logan said, stepping forward and trying to get her to breathe. "No one wants Scott in their head. I get it. But give me a minute to figure out what's going on here."

"What's going on is your psychotic fan club left a freakin' dead bird on the front porch, so to speak," K said.

Logan stopped and frowned deeper at that. "What the hell are you talking about?"

K gestured grandly toward the front of the garage. "I'm sure your buddy can fill you in. He saw it when we came in." She pulled her arm out of his hand. "And I need to get moving on a long overdue exit strategy."

"Don't you freakin' do anything until I figure out what kind of message he's sending," Logan said in an overly short tone himself.

She gave him a dry look for that and turned on her heel. "You're on a clock, Romeo." She left the two men for the time being, on her way to get Clint — and to slap Scott if she could reach him — leaving Logan and Kurt sharing a look before he headed out to the soldiers that were, as she'd said, more or less gift-wrapped.

And by the time he finished running down the scent trail to where it ended half a mile up the road, the Avengers had shown up to find out how SHIELD had lost such a high-priority captive.

When Logan got to the group, he didn't waste any time trying to undo some of the damage. "Cap, if you don't mind, you need to go talk to Clint. Let him know this isn't as bad as it looks. Creed actually  _stopped_ the Department from infiltrating the institute and coming after her."

Steve nodded, frowning toward the other Avengers, who were looking over the soldiers Creed had left behind. "Where is he hiding, do you think?

"He took off at the road, likely had a car waiting for him there. No tellin' from that where he ran off to, but he'll be stayin' close."

Steve nodded, still with narrowed eyes. "I still don't know why he'd even…"

"He was keepin' 'em off her tail, Cap."

"Why?" Steve said. "I thought you said he was working for them."

Logan let out a sigh at that. "He thinks he's got a claim on her — and the kid too."

Steve positively stiffened as he turned toward Logan. " _What_?"

Logan nodded once and tipped his head. "She said she wasn't on board when it went down, I can tell you that. And she managed to shake him for  _years_."

Steve's eyes were still narrowed as he thought it over. "Alright. I'll find Clint. And Logan — I want to know when you find a trail. I'll be looking too."

"You got it," Logan said, though he was looking pretty distracted.

Steve let out his breath and put a hand on Logan's shoulder before he slipped into the mansion — where to his surprise, Clint was curled up with Jean and Scott, with Sicem clearly playing guard dog at their feet.

Clint's eyes went wide when he saw Steve, enough that he didn't see Scott straightening up as well. "Mr. Captain!" Clint blurted out. "What… what're you doing here?"

"Wanted to make sure you're alright," Steve said. "Logan asked me to check in on you while he finds your mom."

"Is she okay?" Clint asked.

"I haven't seen her, honestly," Steve said.

Clint frowned and laid his head back down on Jean's arm. "She's real mad," he said quietly. "And real scared — even if she's not telling anyone that."

"I'm sure Logan knows," Steve said as he took a seat nearby. "But how are you?"

Clint glanced at both Scott and Jean before he bit his lip and shook his head. "I … I dunno," he admitted, holding onto Jean a little tighter. "I dunno how to make him go away."

"I'm going to personally make sure that Tony figures out how he got out — and fixes it so that can't happen again."

Clint winced one eye shut. "Tony who makes knife holes in his helmet Tony?"

Steve couldn't help but smile at that. "He fixed that, as a matter of fact," Steve told him.

"Good, because it was stupid," Clint said, his arms crossed.

"Do you want to go and see how things are going with Logan? He said that the trail dropped off down the road."

Clint paused and then shook his head. "I… I wanna stay inside," he said. "I don't want nobody to see me."

Steve nodded carefully at that. "Alright. So … what can I do to help in the meantime?"

"I don't know," Clint admitted. "I don't… I don't know where me and Mom are gonna go now. Because he's big and mean and what if he finds us again?"

"I'll just have to feed him my shield."

Clint couldn't help but smile at that, and Jean brushed his hair back a bit. "See? I told you — you're safe here," she told him.

Clint nodded and snuggled a bit more into Jean, though Scott did take a moment to talk to Steve away from little ears. "Do you know how he was able to get past SHIELD — or why no one knew he was out until he came here?" he asked.

"I honestly don't know much," Steve admitted. "Nightcrawler came to get Logan — it sounded like an emergency, so … well. We followed. Tony  _will_ come up with a much better containment unit."

Scott glanced back at Jean and Clint and let his frown deepen. "Logan told you that Sabretooth managed to kidnap Clint before, didn't he?"

Steve tipped his head at that, looking somehow even more furious. "No, he didn't, but I think he's got a burn going on." Steve stepped a little closer and let his voice drop lower still. "He said this was Creed  _protecting_."

Scott's eyes were narrowed behind the glasses as he nodded just barely. "That's what Jean said," he agreed. "The last time we ran into him, she had a peek at his mind — he's convinced that Clint and K…  _belong_ to him."

"I already told Logan, but I'm telling you now — I want in on this," Steve said.

"I wouldn't argue the backup," Scott agreed. "Especially with a kid involved," he added in a lower tone. He didn't look back at Jean or Clint, but it was clear Jean knew what they were talking about by the glance she shot them before she went back to trying to tickle Clint into a giggle.

But before Jean could get the giggle she wanted, K and Logan came in — with Kurt next to Logan. The little group didn't get too far before K pulled off the inducer and tossed it to Kurt. "I appreciate the thought — but that's not going to help me much. Thanks, though." She stopped when she saw Clint all curled up. "So... I guess our options are slim," she said, crossing her arms.

Clint utterly abandoned Jean to rush over to K and hug her tightly. "Captain America says he'll feed that guy his shield."

"Yeah? Is he gonna have us sleep on the couch?" K teased.

"If it would make you feel safer," Steve said with a small smirk, though he was openly looking K over — not just the way she was with Clint but the fact that she was so small compared to the seven-foot monster they were talking about.

"I'm a horrible houseguest, isn't that right, Scott?" K said, giving him a little glare.

Scott simply met her gaze for a moment before he turned to Steve. "Clint's been catching up on his education here," he said.

"I'm reading mysteries," Clint said softly, glancing up at Cap. "And… and Storm got me comic books."

"I'm sure Jan would love to read with you," Steve said. "She was asking when you'd be by again."

Clint nodded quietly, tucking into K more. "Okay," he said.

"What about Sicem?" Jean asked.

"Sicem's gotta stay with us!" Clint said quickly, wide-eyed. "I don't want to leave him behind!"

"The dog's name is Sicem?" Steve asked with a smirk as he rested his hand on the dog's head, and Sicem just tried to lick him.

"Yeah, 'cause he  _thinks_ he's a guard dog," Clint said, nodding seriously.

"He  _is_ a guard dog," K argued. "He's just not a very good one. He's more a watch dog than a guard dog."

"I'm sure we can find accommodations for all three of you," Steve said.

"But… can I still come here for school?" Clint asked quietly.

"I can bring you back and forth any time you like without anyone following you," Kurt promised.

Clint smiled at that. "Good," he said, then settled back in with K. "Then we can still come here, even if we gotta live with Mr. Eye Holes."

"Oh, is that his title?" K asked, brushing his hair back before she kissed the top of his head.

"Uh-huh. I thought he was real cool, and then I saw his helmet and it's not… very smart for a real smart guy," Clint tried to explain.

"Well … they almost always think they're smarter than they are," K said.

"They can use my room," Logan said to Steve.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked, though by the time he'd asked it, he was smirking.

"No one can complain that way," Logan said, shrugging. "And I can hunt for the idiot from the tower."

Steve nodded at that. "Is that alright with you, ma'am?" he asked K - just to get the look from Logan that followed.

"Only if you don't call me 'ma'am'," she said.

"Fair enough," Steve said. "What do you prefer?"

"Pretty much anything but that," she said. "I'll answer to 'hey you', if it's easy."

Steve chuckled at that. "Well then, 'hey you', if you have anything you want to bring, I'll let my team know to prepare for some newcomers." He smiled. "We don't usually have families around, so this will be a good change of pace."

"If it's that much trouble, we can figure out something else," K said.

Steve shook his head. "No trouble — I just want to make sure it feels like home. Even if it is a bad situation."

"If you can keep that idiot off my back, then it'll be fine," she said. "And we'll be out of your hair as soon as we can."

"As soon as Sabretooth is in much  _stricter_ custody," Scott put in.

"Or dead," K said, which got a smirk out of Logan. "I'd take dead too."

"Well, Cap said he was gonna feed him his shield," Clint said again — simply because he found the concept so entertaining.

"Yeah?" K said, shifting her expression to keep him in a good mood. "Is that the right way or entirely backwards … like shoving it up places?"

Clint made a face. "I dunno. I just think it would be funny to try and fit a shield in his big mouth."

"Oh, it'd fit with room," K said, brushing his hair back one more time before she met his gaze and purposely ran her hands backwards through his hair to make it all stand up on end.

Clint shook his head at her as he pushed his hair back down. "But then we can come back here, right?" he whispered. "I like it here. I like the lake and my teachers and… and all of it."

She paused for just a moment, but then she nodded her head carefully. "If that's what you want to do, then as long as you can go to school here, I'm okay with that."

"Good," Clint said, giving her one more hug before he rushed over to Jean to ask her to help him pick out some books with Storm so he could keep reading — which he was enjoying more and more now.

After all, he had never had this many friends before, and he didn't want to let that go.


End file.
